


Wolverine in Arkham

by MissMilkMaid



Series: Wolverine & Batman Crossover [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: Arkham Asylum (Video Games), Batman: The Animated Series, Wolverine (Comics), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMilkMaid/pseuds/MissMilkMaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wolverine gets committed to Arkham after trying to kill Bruce Wayne. He's not sure if he was brainwashed, or if he's really as crazy as the doctors say. In the meantime, he makes an unexpected friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. By Reason of Insanity

"And the court rules the defendant not guilty by reason of insanity. He is to be committed to Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane for an indeterminate period of time." The gavel banged with a thundering thud, "The court is dismissed."

His lawyer, a young fellow still trying to get a footing in the field, jumped up congratulating himself, a huge grin plastered across his face. He didn't give Logan a second glance and Logan didn't care. He'd been a dick of a lawyer and Logan wasn't exactly pleased by the verdict anyway. If he had to be locked up, he'd rather spend the time with normal thugs and not a bunch of whackos and pill-pushers.

He scowled as two guards came over to lock the custom-made cuffs behind his back. "You may think you're off the hook, but you just wait 'till you get to Arkham," scoffed one of the guards, "My fiancé works there and she says the place is full of freaks who'd sooner rip your face off than say "good morning"

"You should fit right in…" the second guard sneered and reached out and grabbed the dog tags still around Logan's neck, reading one of the names stamped upon them, _"Wolverine."_

Logan gave an angry snort and resisted the urge to extend his claws and throw both guards over the rail. As therapeutic as the outburst would be, some genius at Wayne Tech had come up with a nifty device that would cause a stunning electric shock should he try such a thing. "I'll be sure to look your fiancé up…" Logan turned his head, trying to read the nametag on the guard's vest. He smirked, _"… Francis."_

Francis' grin fell to an ugly frown and he pulled Logan roughly from the booth. "After attempting to murder Bruce Wayne, you'll be lucky if you ever make it out of the padded cell, Freak!"

Logan just smiled, unconcerned then tensed as his eyes fixed upon a man making his way through the courtroom.

"Speak of the devil," he growled through his teeth.

It was Bruce Wayne, tall, handsome and dressed in a fifteen-thousand dollar suit. Logan licked his dry lips; he could feel his body trembling in anticipation. His eyes remained locked upon Wayne, like a cat's upon a canary and everything else seemed to fade to nonexistence. Then the guards jerked Logan toward the door and Wayne vanished among the crowd, as the world turned back to normal.

"Come on!" growled Francis, shoving the back of Logan's head. Logan could only stumble ahead of him and wonder how long it would take them to find a straitjacket in his size.

***********

It was yet another rainy day and head doctor at Arkham, James Cidelle, sighed as he put aside a written report and took out a cassette tape. One more rainy day and one more crazy sicko to analyze. Sometimes his life seemed to melt into one long, dreary river of insanity. Pushing the play button, Cidelle picked up a magazine and only paid half attention to the interview. A middle aged female voice, with an Indian accent was conducting the interview.

"February 20th, 1996, Report #3: Patient's identity unknown. Alias: Logan aka Wolverine.

The Initial diagnostic made by Dr. West is Retrograde Amnesia and Paranoid Schizophrenia.

Patient has very little memory of his life prior to his appearance in Gotham last November and suffers from violent compulsions, sullen despondency and paranoid delusions. When he arrived, Logan was obsessed with the compulsion to kill Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

After 60 days of prescription medications and talk therapy, we have seen marked improvements in Logan's condition. He has dismissed the idea of murdering Mr. Wayne and has become notably less violent. Also, the patient's memory is slowly, but gradually improving. However, as he attempts to piece together his past, Logan's paranoid delusions are not only persistent, but seem to be expanding."

There was the sound of a door opening and the scuff of a chair, as someone else took a seat in the office.

"Good morning Logan. How are you doing today?"

The response was just a passive grunt and it was easy to imagine Logan sitting there with his burley arms crossed and a perpetual scowl on his face.

"As I told you yesterday, I'm sending a report to Dr. Cidelle today. If he approves of my diagnostic, you should be allowed to visit the common room with the other patients very soon."

Again there was minimal response.

"You have come a long way since we started seeing each other. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Reckon I would, if'n I were actually crazy."

"You don't think you are?"

"Like I said Doc, I think someone messed with my head. Course you just consider that paranoid delusions, so there aint no use in say'n it again."

"No, please, explain what you mean."

There was the sound of movement as Logan leaned forward. "I'm having dreams, flashes of memory. Needles, water-tanks, folks in white lab coats, concrete cells."

"Are you sure you aren't just having nightmares about Arkham?"

"It aint Arkham, Lady. It was a whole different place. They were experimenting on me. How else do you explain the adamantium and the amnesia? Besides, when I woke up here in Gotham I'm sure there was a collar on my neck, something that they were using to control me. It's like it could read my mind and whenever my thoughts questioned their mission, it… corrected them."

"I see… Logan I've shown you your X-rays. There is no metal bonded to your skeleton, except for that on your claws, which we believe to be weapons you built into your own arms. And we have no reason to believe you ever had a collar on when you attack Mr. Wayne. If you had, I'm sure it would have come up in your trial."

"The Batman was the one who stopped me, he probably took it and those weren't my X-rays. Someone must have switched them out."

"Why would anyone want to do that?"

"Clearly they're try'n to keep this covered up."

"Who?"

"How the hell should I know? Whoever's try'n to kill Bruce Wayne, that's who!"

"Logan, I think you should calm down."

There was a frustrated snort of breath. "Whatever," Logan drawled, "Just keep marking down my crazy points, Doc, but I'm telling you, Wayne's in danger."

"You are concerned for him? Two months ago you were obsessed with killing him."

"From what I hear, Wayne's nothing but a wealthy leach on society, but I got nothing personal against him and the fact that someone tried to use me to get to him, ticks me off. I'd like the rich chump to make it to a hundred, just screw with whoever did this to me."

"I see. So you wish no harm towards Bruce Wayne."

"None."

"Well that's good to hear. Now, Logan, besides those dreams you mentioned earlier, what can you remember from you past."

There was a slight pause, before Logan began hesitantly, "I remember driving along snowy roads and I remember fighting."

"Fighting?"

"Yeah, in rings. Boxing and such, anything to pay for the next beer and the next tank of gas. Before that… Well I think I lived in Japan… It's still all rather blurry. There was a girl… and a samurai…"

There was a tense silence.

"Do you remember your name?"

"Nothing but Logan and Wolverine. I used Wolverine as a fighting alias."

"Do you remember your childhood, your family?"

"No."

"Do you remember anything else of significance."

There was another break in the conversation, in which Logan supposedly shook his head, because when the doctor spoke again, she said, "The patient has responded in the negative."

"Logan how do you feel about the idea of joining your fellow inmates in the common room?"

"Well, I reckon it's better than sitting in a padded cell all day."

"What do you think you'd do, if you were allowed to spend time in the common room."

"Don't know… play checkers, watch TV, eat some fuck'n muffins. Whatever the hell crazy people are supposed to do, I guess."

"Do you think you could abstain from violence?"

"Well, that's what you've been trying to teach me Doc."

"Thank you Logan. You may go now. I'll be sure to let you know as soon as Dr. Cidelle makes his decision."

"Whatever Doc. While you're at it, you think you could sneak me in a couple of cigars?"

"You know there's no smoking aloud."

There was a slight chuckle and the sound of Logan standing up to go. "Just thought I'd ask."

The door closed and the doctor gave her final statements. "It is my recommendation that Logan be allowed to mingle with the other inmates. Despite delusions and occasional outbursts of violence, Logan has shown great progress morally and mentally and continued isolation is likely work against his rehabilitation.

Dr, Sharon Patel."

The tape came to an end and Dr. Cindelle looked over the top of his magazine and yawned once, before pulling the permission slip forward and signing his approval.

********

The custom cuffs weighed down his pockets, stretching the cheap fabric of his robe and the soft souls of his shoes didn't make a sound as he followed the guards down the hall. In the absence of a cigar, Logan had made do with a toothpick, which he rolled absently between his lips.

Thanks to Dr. Patel's encouragement, his face was mostly clean-shaven and even his hair was less of a wreck than usual, though it would have taken a tank of gel to get it to actually lay flat.

"Now listen here, Wolverine," said one of the guards, stopping before the door and glaring down at his prisoner, "The doctors have given you permission to remain in the common room for three hours, but we'll be keeping watch. If you start getting violent, we'll cart you back to the padded cells so fast you won't even get the chance to say Yipi-ky-ay."

"Whatever you say, Cash," Logan drawled back, "I'm just looking forward to a peaceful afternoon watching the tely."

"Alright. Just one last warning. Some of the others in there are hardcore lunatics, who'd love a chance to manipulate a sucker."

"I look like a sucker to you, Bub?"

Cash shook his head dubiously and turned to unlock the door. "Alright. Just remember we'll be watching."

The common room wasn't very big, some tables were set up at one side, there was a tv with some cheap furniture arranged about it and some vending machines along the wall. Most of the inmates were playing cards at a table, though a few were watching a nature show.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Logan scowled back, taking in the strange faces… and most of them were very [i]very[/i] strange faces.

"Well whad'a know it's the NEW guy!" came a loud, obnoxious voice. An inmate with a completely white face, save for his wide, red lips, jumped off the sofa. "Nice to meet you. I'm the Joker," he said, coming enthusiastically forward to shake Logan's hand, "Welcome to the nuthouse! Here." He handed Logan a handful of grimy peanuts and then burst out laughing.


	2. “If it weren’t for Batman”

“Let me introduce you to the old gang,” The Joker said and before Logan could growl _“don’t touch”_ Joker had an and arm around his shoulder and was leading him about the room. “This is Pam. I know she looks nice, but touch her flowers and she’ll grow vicious… Ahh-HA-HA!”

Pamela was sitting cross-legged on the sofa a potted plant on her lap. Her red hair and full bosom were… well, splendid and Logan began to think Arkham could actually be quite a bit nicer than a normal prison after all. “Hi,” he said, shaking off the Joker’s arm, “Nice … little tree you got there.”

“It’s a boxwood bonsai from Japan,” Pamela corrected coldly, “And call me Poison Ivy.”

“Yeh don’t say? You ever been to Japan?”

Pamela gave him a withering look and the Joker grabbed Logan’s collar, pulling him merrily across the room toward the inmates playing poker. “Harvey! Let me introduce you to the New Guy! New Guy, meet Harvey Dent!”

Logan had to keep himself from visibly blanching when Dent turned to reveal one side of his face to be darkly scared and mangled. It might not have been so weird, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was literally half his face. There even seemed to be a line separated his perfectly normal side from his deformed side. It almost seemed as if some freak accident had smooched two completely different people into one.

“The name’s Two Face!” Dent said his bugged out eye glaring first at the Joker then at Logan.

“Uh-oh. Sounds like Old Harv got up on the wrong side of the bed today!” exclaimed the Joker.

“Two Face?” Logan snorted in amusement then glanced scornfully about the room, “Poison Ivy, Joker?” he nodded at one of the other inmates sitting at the table, a big man with rough scaly skin and sharpened teeth, “What are you The Lizard?”  
“The call me Killer Croc!” the big guy growled, throwing down his cards.

Logan scoffed. “No wonder you lot are locked up. This is ridiculous.”

“You don’t like our names, we could always cut out your tongue. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about saying them… ever,” threatened Two Face, flipping a coin with practiced ease. 

“Ah, he’s just having some fun, Harv,” the Joker said, putting his arm over Logan’s shoulder again, “See, I got a look at our new friend’s file and he’s got a little nickname himself.” With unexpected strength, Joker shoved Logan down into and empty chair. “Gang, meet The Wolverine! You can try cut out his tongue Harv, but I doubt it’d work! See, I hear he’s tougher than he looks. It’s that right, Wolvy?”

Logan glared. “I guess you could say I know how to take a hit,” he growled.

“I just bet you do,” the Joker chuckled, playfully bumping his fist against Logan’s chin. 

Logan ignored him and looked about the table. There were still two people who’d never been introduced. They looked exactly alike and were sitting on either side of Dent. “Who’s Thing 1 and Thing 2?” he asked.

“Oh they’re just the Brooster Twins. Friends of Harv’s,” the Joker explained, waving a hand dismissively. 

“We going to play cards or what?” asked Dent harshly.

“Sure! Deals us in!” said the Joker.

Logan shrugged. 

“What’s with the heavy irons?” Croc asked once the cards had been dealt. The custom cuffs were rather bulky and Logan couldn’t help but bump the table a few times picking up his hand.

He shot Croc a glare. “They’re to keep me from ripping your fuck’n face off, Bub,” he stated then looked over at Dent, “What are we betting here anyway?”

“Money, what else?” snapped Two Face, putting a wad of crumpled bills on the table.

Logan frowned at it. “Where’da get the green in this place?”

“You can’t pay. You can’t play!” exclaimed Croc.

“Better go watch Sesame Street with Red,” Two Face growled. 

The idea of sitting beside Pam didn’t sound all that bad to Logan, but before he could speak Joker put his arm around him. “Give the New Guy a break. Here, I’ll give you some of my dough.” He pushed over a pile of wrinkled cash, which was twice as large as Dent’s.

“Hey what gives!?” demanded Croc, “You never give me…”

“Tut, tut. Its just a little penny change. There’s plenty more where that came from. Annie up!” Joker tossed a dollar into the center of the table. 

“Some day…” growled Two Face, “I’m go’na find your sources Joker. And then all that flow will be mine.

“Well… if you could just put two and two together, Harv, I doubt it would be so hard.”

“Maybe, I’ll just have my friends get you into a dark corner and save myself the trouble.” Dent leaned forward his mangled mouth leering at the Joker. On either side of him, the twins put on dark grins.

“Yeah!” Croc said enthusiastically banging the table with a heavy fist, “You’re not the only one with friends around here… _Joker!”_

The Joker smiled widely at them and then turned to Logan, blatantly changing subjects. “So Wolverine, why don’t you tell us how you ended up in the crack-house. Is it true you tried to knock off dear old Brucie? I bet five by the way.”

Logan glanced between Joker and Dent then met the bet and said, “I would have got him, if it hadn’t been for the Batman.”

“Isn’t that always the story!” said the Joker.

“So The Bat collared you too?” asked Dent, tossing his own five dollars into the pot. 

“Why don’t you join the club and tell us all about it Wolverine?” Joker invited, “I want two cards please.”

Logan hesitated a moment then shrugged, “I guess. Give me three.” 

“I’d been stalking Wayne for a couple days, looking for an opportunity. The lazy bastard wasn’t the easiest target. Always went home early, slept in late and hardly ever seemed to walk around alone. I was beginning to think I’d have to break into Wayne manner and cut his throat in his sleep, when I finally got my chance.”

Logan could clearly remember the chilly Gotham evening. The days had been getting shorter and shorter and for once Wayne was working after dark. 

“Most of the Wayne Enterprise employees had already left and Wayne and his secretary came out together.”

Even from his position across the street on the second floor of the parking garage, Logan’s keen ears had heard the billionaire’s conversation. 

“Don’t worry about that anymore tonight. I’ll come in early and we’ll get it finished then. Just go home and have a good evening with your family.”

“Thanks Bruce. I’m sure we’ll get the problem sorted out in no time.” They crossed to the reserved parking lot and the secretary glanced at the prime spot, which was empty. “Where’s your car?”

“I decided to park in the garage today. Those stairs always give me a good work out.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what we got the gym for?”

Bruce shrugged. “You know I hate to use the office gym. What would the others think if they saw the big boss in his gym cloths?”

“They’d be more jealous than ever, I’m sure!” the secretary teased, taking her keys out of her bag and stopping beside her own car. “I’ll see to in the morning Bruce.”

“Evening Martha.”

“He was walking to his car alone when I jumped him,” Logan explained, as the next round of betting began, “I don’t think he was expecting an attack, but he handled it better than others have in the past.”

“What did old Brucie do?” The Joker asked, throwing ten more bucks into the pot.

“Screamed like a pig and ran for the elevator.”

“Ah, you must have scared Poor Little Rich Boy!”

All Logan could remember was the rushing surge of adrenalin and rage, which had hit him at the sight of his prey so close at hand. He’d not been himself. He’d been an animal, without any clear thought but the kill. The garage had been dimly lit and the lights seem to have an odd blue tinge to them. He’d seem them gleaming in Bruce’s eyes, but there’d been no fear. Scream and run as he did, there’d been something about his quarry, which just wasn’t like prey. Something didn’t add up. He’d hesitated, but there’d been that collar… 

Logan subconsciously rubbed his neck.

“So what happened next?” Two Face asked, scowling as he met the Joker’s bet.

“I jumped on him. Had him pinned to the ground.” Logan grimaced as he remember roaring in Bruce’s face and pulling back his claws to strike. “But then he pulled out a fuck’n can of mace.”

One of the twins guffawed, “The rich chump just happened to have mace in his pocket? What? Is he afraid of getting raped?”

“What’s mace?” Croc asked. 

“Anyway, he got me in the eyes and managed to make it to the elevator.”

Logan frowned. The pain hadn’t bothered him so much as the blindness, confusion and the fact that his prey was escaping. By the time he been able see and think with relative clarity the elevator doors had already been closing. Those closing door had made him so mad! Why? Maybe he’d been spending too much time around the nut-doctors, but Logan couldn’t help but question his own rage. He remembered tearing the doors apart, yelling like the enraged animal he’d been. It’d taken less then three seconds to reduce them to scrap metal, but Wayne and the elevator were already gone. What had made him hate a stranger so much?

He shook himself and met the Joker’s bet. “I’d just gathered enough of my wits to turn for the stairs when _he_ showed up.”

“The Bat always did love an entrance!” the Joker said gleefully, raising the stakes by another ten dollars.

“That crazy car of his screeched into the garage like a charging rhino and smacked right into me.”

“The Bat ran you over?” Croc asked, looking more confused than normal.

“That doesn’t sound like him,” Two Face said, looking over at Logan with a suspicious eye. 

Logan shrugged. “Maybe it was an accident. He did come around that corner awfully fast.”

“So he just ran you over and that’s it?” Joker asked disappointedly, “That’s not very interesting.”

Two Face called the Joker’s hand and the clown smiled widely, laying down his cards. “Four Kings!” he said.

“Damn it,” Two Faced cursed, throwing down his own two-pair aces and sevens.

“I wasn’t done with the story yet,” Logan snapped, apathetically dropping his own hand containing three queens. 

“Well then by all means, continue!” The Joker exclaimed, gathering the cards and beginning to shuffle. 

“I was out maybe a minute or so. When I came to, he was leaning over me.”

Logan could remember the shadow of the cape, the dark cowl looking down at him and the gloved hand reaching towards he neck. Now, that he thought about it, the Batman may have just been planning on checking for a pulse, or maybe he was trying to investigate the collar, but at the time Logan had acted out of pure instinct.

“I grabbed him and kicked him across the garage and through the broken elevator doors. Pretty sure I head him hit the basement floor with a thud too. He must know how to land a fall though, cuz a moment later he’s climbing right back out again.”

“Bah,” Joker said, as he finished dealing, “The Batman has never been the type to stay down. Ah-hoo-haha… I should know!”

“Well, he knows how to fight anyway,” Logan said, “I haven’t encountered anyone so well trained since my days studying under a kenjutsu master in Japan.” Logan hesitated, realizing how easily he’d access the memory of Master Ogun and the Silver Samurai.

“Yeah. I’m sure he kicked your ass!” Croc said, “And I bet ONE dollar!”

“Bah!” Logan said tossing his own dollar on the table, “Raise you five. He got in a few good blows, but I can hold my own.”

The fight probably would have gone better if Logan hadn’t been so out of his mind. He’d gone at the Batman without any control or planning, swinging his claws and roaring the whole way. He remembers the swish of Batman’s cape and the crushing kicks in the small of his back. It seemed every time he trying to land a hit the batman would vanish like a slippery shadow and the blindside him. 

“I raise another five,” the Joker said. “What happened in the end?”

“I finally got a hold of his cape and threw him down. Should have known not to throw him so far though. ‘Fore I could stab him in the face, he shot this grappling hook thing and vanished up into the shadows again. Next thing I know, his heels are in my back and I’m eating concrete. Then he must have tazored me or something, cuz by the time I came to, I was under arrest down at the station.” 

“Well we all know what that’s like,” The Joker said sympathetically.

“Yeah!” Croc agreed angrily, “It’ like… the Batman just comes and then BAM! Right back to Arkahm! I hate him.”

“We all do,” Two Face said, “Its probably the only thing we really have in common.”

“Guess so,” Logan said apathetically, “Give me three cards.”


	3. “Nothing is Sure”

“I’m telling you Doc, I can remember. It was all real!” Wolverine was pacing Sharon’s office, looking agitated, with his dark hair on end and coffee stains on his robe. “It’s coming back. I remember Master Ogun, the Silver Samurai with his fuck’n magic sword, the Yakuza and Itsu!”

“Hold on, did you say the Yakuza? As in the Japanese Mafia?” Sharon asked, tapping her pencil on her clipboard and frowning dubiously at Logan.

Logan nodded, rubbing his forehead, “It’s complicated, but I remember. And I remember what happened in Canada last fall.”

Sharon frowned. 

He’d only gotten back from Japan a few weeks before and really hadn’t given a fuck about anything. Live, die, freeze none of it had seemed to matter. Nonetheless, he’d made his way steadily northwest, toward the Canadian Rockies. He didn’t know what he had hoped to find, but, but something had been drawing him there. By the time October came around, he must have been well into the middle of nowhere, with nothing but an old camper and trailer full of junk.

He clearly remembered the cold, mean and biting as he drove down empty roads, empty of everything but snow and ice that is. Everything had been white and grey, the road, the frozen forest, the sky. It seemed like an endless dream: the cold road going on and on and never changing. 

“I was making my way steadily northward,” he said, “Driving, just driving. When someone hit my van with a tree.” 

“Hit your van with a tree?” Sharon repeated and then made a note, “I see.”

Logan growled and gripped the back of his empty seat, fighting the urge to extend his claws and rip something up. For months, Sharon had helped him work through his rage and blind violence, but now that things were becoming clear and he was finally getting his memory back, she wasn’t listening. She was just signing him off as a nutcase, just like the rest of the white coats had been doing all along. 

“Well, maybe the tree just fell, Doc, but I doubt it. I mean, crazy or not, I do know that healthy trees generally don’t just rip themselves out of the ground and slam down on innocent passer-bys for no good reason!”

Sharon just lifted her eyebrows, looking at him to see if he were joking. “Alright, go on,” she said when it was clear that he wasn’t, “I’m still listening.”

The impact had been sudden and crushing. A shatter of glass and a pain in his spine, as he’d flown through the windshield were the first warnings he had of trouble. One moment he’d been adjusting the heat vents and the next he’d been out in the vast fields of white and gray, twisting his neck back into joint and wiping blood off his forehead.

“When I got up, I could smell some other mutant nearby.”

“Another mutant?”

“Yeah, you really think I’m the only one, Doc? There’s more and this one came of the woods like a lion.”

Logan grimaced as he remembered the fight. There’d been something strangely familiar about the smell of the other man. The enraged roar of his attack was almost like the call of an old forgotten friend. It’d startled him so much he hardly got a chance to see the dark eyes and sharp teeth of his attacker, before getting blown completely away. 

“He attacked and must have thrown me a hundred yards, right through two more fuck’n trees.” 

“Logan you know how I feel about…”

“Through two more FLAMING trees! ALRIGHT!” roared Logan. 

He could still remember the smash of his body through wood, splinters and freezing wind ripping at his face, the surge of fear, which rapidly turned to fighting rage. The other mutant was dressed in a fur coat and leapt through the forest like he was half wildcat. Even though his body was still trying to heal several major injuries, Logan had gotten up and lunged at the stranger with every intention of ripping his face off. 

“Then he just picked up another tree, and used it on me like a baseball bat. He must have been as strong as a bulldozer.” It’d all been so strange and yet familiar, like living a dream he’d had a thousand times before, but always forgotten. He’d come face to face with someone like himself and he’d had the tar kicked out of him, as if he’d been no more than a whipped puppy, who’d dared to bark. 

Sharon pushed her glasses up her dark-skinned nose, looking worried. “Logan, don’t you think you may be exaggerating, just a little?”

“I’m NOT EXAGERATING! And I’m NOT CRAZY!” In a sudden burst of rage, Logan picked up the empty chair and threw it against the wall, where if was smashed to pieces with a crash. “That guy was using me as his personal football and I couldn’t do anything to stop him! And then I woke up…” Logan pulled at his hair and paced angrily, trying to force his memory to work for him. … A red light, cold steel, pain, Bruce Wayne and a voice… a deep voice… The truth was in there. He could feel it like a cold pressure on the back of his mind.

“I know there’s more!” he exclaimed, coming desperately across the room and grabbing Sharon by her coat. “You need to help me remember, Doc! You said you would. You got to!”

By now Sharon had dropped her clipboard and was fumbling for the emergency call button, but she still managed to keep her voice authoritative and firm. “Logan, if you don’t calm down and let go of me RIGHT now, I’ll have to call in Guardswoman Revera! I’d hate to see you back in a straightjacket! Now… LET. GO. Take a deep breath and count to ten. You must control your anger.” 

Logan glared, but let go. Stepping back, he took a deep breath and counted to ten in his mind. Gradually, his frustration and pent up rage started to subside. Leaning against the wall and trying to control his breathing like she’d taught him, Logan suddenly felt a wave of dizziness and doubt come over him. A moment ago, he’d been so sure, but now his anger, his memories and today’s medications all just swirled about his mind in a psychedelic puddle of insanity and blurred reality. Maybe it was all just nothingness and he really was just another delusional whacko in the madhouse…

“Feeling better?” Sharon asked, picking up her pencil and clipboard and straightening her lab coat.

Wiping sweaty hair from his eyes, Logan silently nodded. 

“Good.” She retook her seat, “Why don’t we talk about something a little more in the present. Mr. Cash said your first day in the common room went smoothly enough. Would you like to tell me about it?”

Logan shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets, still feeling a little dizzy. “Not much to say. We played cards, told stories. I made a little money, though I guess it was really Joker’s money.”

“Cash told me that the Joker was being rather friendly with you,” Sharon said with a slight frown.

“So what? He seems like a nice guy… for a murdering lunatic that is.”

“You need to be careful Logan. The Joker is notorious for manipulating others and trying to twist them to his own purpose. I’m glad that your willing to make new friends, but take my advice and don’t let the Joker get too close to you.” Sharon gave him a hard look.

“What should I be afraid of? Its not like he can do anything to me here.”

“I’m not so worried about what he could do, but what you might do, should the Joker get his hooks in you.”

Logan just snorted derisively then glanced at the door, as the sound of Cash’s voice suddenly came from the hallway outside.

“Revera! Is this true!” He must have showed her something, because all Logan’s keen ears could pick up was Revera’s speechless spluttering.

“Where… where did you get that?”

“An anonymous source left it at the office this morning. Have you been accepting bribes?”

“I… uh… I’m sorry! My daughter’s still in the hospital! I didn’t mean for it to go this far…”

“Stop! Just stop. I don’t want to hear excuses! You’re through Revera! You know the policy. Of all the people to be on the take!”

“Sir, I was going to tell you. It wasn’t…” Revara’s voice was shaking.

“Enough!” shouted Cash, “I’ve heard ENOUGH.”

At this, Sharon got up and pulled the office door open. Logan peered over her shoulder at the two guards outside. Cash was standing just a few inches from Revara, glaring furiously into her face and Ravera was close to tears. At the sight of Sharon and Logan, she rapidly rubbed her eyes, trying to cover up her emotion and failing miserably. 

“What’s going on out here? You are disturbing our session.”

“I… Sorry Dr. Patel,” Cash said and managed to soften his tone some as he took a step back, “Revera go to the office. I’ll meet you there.”

“Yes Sir,” she muttered and walked rapidly away.

“Do you need me to stay until someone else comes to stand guard?” Cash asked, turning back to Sharon. 

“No, Logan and I were about done anyway. I promised him he could have lunch with the other patients in the cafeteria and it’s already 11:30.”

“I guess I can escort him there on my way to the office,” Cash offered. 

“Thank you guardsman, I would appreciate it.” Sharon gathered her notes and tucked them into her purse. “I’ll see you tomorrow Logan, hopefully we’ll make some better progress.” 

Logan watched her leave and then stuffed his hands in his pockets as Cash waved for him to fall in step before him. 

“So what was that all about?” Logan asked, once they’d turned the first corner.

“None of your business, Freak. I shouldn’t have confronted her in the open like that. I was just…”

“… So angry you wanted to hurt someone.” Logan finished for him, “And so you did. I recommend Risperdal. Those little pills have done wonders for me.”

“Shut up!” Cash snapped, shoving Logan in the back of the shoulder, before sighing and rubbed his brow.

Logan glanced back at him, hesitated and then spoke carefully, “You could just talk about it.”

Cash sighed, “Its just… this never ending battle. I try so hard to make this a better place, to keep both the staff and inmates safe, but every time I think things are getting better, some maniac escapes, or I find corruption where I least expected it.”

“Like with Revera?”

“She’s a good woman. I shouldn’t have talked to her like that, but I thought she was someone I could be sure of, someone I could trust, but no. Nothing is sure. All I can count on are my own actions and principles around here.”

Logan didn’t respond, but he kept on listening, allowing Cash to get it all out. After two months of therapy he knew how relieving a good listener could be. 

“It’s just so hard, you know,” Cash continued, “Trying to be this solid rock. Trying to stand against the tides of … well evil and not dissolve into insanity myself.”

“Why even bother? Why not just make it easy on yourself and go with the flow? Its what everyone else seems to do. Why should you have to be the only one living through Hell?”

Cash’s voice hardened, “Because if good people did nothing, then psychos like you and the Joker would run the world and we’d all be in Hell. No. Some people have to take the hurt, so the rest of the world can live in peace.”

Logan didn’t say anything for another moment and then he finally shrugged. “Whatever. Let me know how that all works out for you.”

They made it to the cafeteria and Cash opened the door for him. “Enjoy your meal, Wolverine,” he said bitterly.

Logan sniffed and grimaced, “I always did love burned beans.”

“Hey Cash,” called one of the guards supervising the line. “You’re supposed to super in here today, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a bit, Frank. Just have to take care of some things in the office first.”

“Good luck,” Logan said, as he made his way toward the back of the line.

Cash just glared and then slammed the door closed.


	4. “Having the Right Friends”

“Yoo-hoo! Wolvie! Over here!” 

Logan looked across the large room at Joker waving to him from atop a back table. The cafeteria was one of the few places, where most of Arkham’s inmates were allowed to all be in at the same time. There were several patients in various stages of crazy, all trying to line up for food and find a safe place to either eat or play with their food in peace. And of course there were also several guards, standing about making sure everyone stayed in line and didn’t shove beans into their neighbor’s ear. It was more people than Logan had encountered in a very long time and he was actually relieved to see the clown’s weird, but recognizable face above the chaos.

Pushing between some big guys drooling into their plates and past some tattooed girls struggling over the same seat, Logan got to the Joker’s table, just as one of the guards barked at him to get down, or be tazed. 

“Sheesh. Alright alight!” The Joker said jumping back to the floor, “Not like I was doing a tap dance or anything. Though that _would_ be fun! Wolvie! Have a seat with the big boys!”

Logan glanced about, but the only other person at Joker’s table was Killer Croc, who was shoveling food in his mouth like an animal.

“Uh, Alright. Thanks.” He sat down, making sure to leave plenty of space between him and the crocodile man.

“Oh don’t mind Crocy’s table manners. He grew up with a more savage style of cosine. Ah-haha! … Just be sure to keep your fingers away from his mouth.”

“There’s not enough meat in this!” Croc said demandingly.

“There’s not any meat you Bozo! That is unless you snatched yourself another hand. I thought I hear the Cashie shouting about something and while ago.”

Croc just grumbled and ate his desert in one gulp.  
Logan frowned, as he swallowed a mouthful of disgusting beans. “I didn’t see any cobbler when I went through the line.”

“Oh, Thelma saves it just for me and my friends!” Joker laughed and pushed a bowl of peach cobbler across the table to Logan. “I thought you might turn up, so I asked her to give me an extra today.” 

Logan looked down at the cobbler and sniffed. It actually looked and smelled really good and it was still warm too. Hesitantly, he looked back up at the Joker. “You have all kinds of people doing you favors don’t you?” 

“In here, it’s all about having the right friends, Wolverine. You won’t last long without friends! And you _can’t_ be friends with just anyone. You got to find winners, not losers like that sap Revera.”

Logan poked the cobbler with his plastic fork and then took a bite. “Revera was one of your friends?” he asked. 

“Of course not! Are you listening at all? My friends are winners not losers! No, Revera was a friend of Old Harv’s. Or at least she was.” Joker gave a malicious smile and chuckled, “I expect she’s packing her bags by now.”

“You sacked Revera?” Croc asked.

“Oh, I’m sure Cashie did the actual sacking, Croc old boy.”

“But she…”

“Oh don’t fuss Croc! Stay with me and I’ll hook you up with plenty of better sources. Ahh-ah-ah! There lots more fish in this sea!”

“Just how many people do you have on the take, Joker?” Logan asked, between bites.

“Now don’t start asking too many questions just yet, Wolvie Old Boy. We aren’t that close’a friends. But I can promise you I have more than enough to take care of… Well just about anything! Ah-hahha! Warden Sharpy only _thinks_ he runs this place!”

“If you’re so powerful around here, why don’t you just escape?”

“Bah, Gotham’s no fun in the winter time. It rains every day and everyone’s so grumpy all the time.”

“Yeah, everyone like the Batman!” Croc said smirking at the Joker. 

Joker glared. “Shut up Croc! I could escape whenever I choose.”

“You can just walk out? You got that many of the staff in your pocket?”

Joker smirked. “Everyone’s got a weakness, Wolverine. They all have their fears, or their price.”

“Everyone?” Logan asked dubiously.

Joker’s smile vanished and a look of sulky frustration came over his face. “Well, there are an “incorruptible few” who I’m still working on.”

“Like Cash?” Logan asked, finishing as much of the beans as he was willing to stomach and giving his full attention to Thelma’s peach cobbler. 

“Cash, and the _Batman_!” Joker growled, snapping a plastic fork in one hand. He glowered a moment more, but then shrugged and tossed the broken fork on the table. “Ah, but it just makes life interesting doesn’t it. Otherwise, it’d all be so easy and boring! Oh hello Harv!”

Logan turned in his seat and saw Harvey Dent standing over them with the Brooster twins backing him on either side of him. He glanced dismissively at Logan. “Scram New Guy. Croc, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Uh…” Croc looked from Harvey to the Joker and then pointed at his empty cobbler bowl, “He had pie,” he explained. 

“I’ll give you pie!” Dent said harshly, “I’ll give you a pie in the face, if you don’t get your ass up off that seat!”

Croc shrugged and stood up, to stand with the twins.

“Ah Croc,” Joker said, feigningly placing an hand over his heart, “You cut me deep!”

“Shut it Joker!” Dent snapped, “I just heard that Revera’s been fired. It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to know you were the one who put the finger on her!”

“Obviously,” Joker said with a smirk. 

Leering, Dent stepped up beside Logan and leaned over the table toward Joker. “Revera was one of my best sources! You had no right to move in like that.”

“Right!?” laughed the Joker, “Like I ever cared about my rights!” The Joker got to his feet his merry laugh falling to a stern glare, “Revera was weak, Dent! Anyone with two eyes could see that she was about to crack. I probably could have let her be and she’d have told Cash herself within the week! Ha! If Revera was really the best you got, then you’re not nearly as strong as I thought you were Harv!”

Dent growled and reached out to seize Joker by the collar, but Logan caught his fist. “Hang on there,” he said darkly, “There’s no need to get violent.”

Dent glared “I thought I told you scram!” he snapped and then grabbed Logan’s robe, pulling him out of his chair and throwing him into the arms of the Brooster twins.

“Get lost Little Man! Our business is with Joker,” one of them scoffed, throwing Logan to the ground. 

“Croc, lets take our funny friend somewhere less conspicuous,” Two Face said, giving a lopsided smirk, “If you’re lucky I may even let you have him for desert.” He flipped a coin in his hand.

“Sure thing,” Croc said with a grin then he knocked aside the table so he could grab the back of Joker’s robe and hoist him off his feet.

“Hey! The desert bribe was my idea! Come on Harv!”

Dent just smiled and led the way through a door in the back of the cafeteria.

Once they were gone, Logan glanced about and realized that most the guards had either vanished, or were busily looking the other direction. “God damn it!” he cursed and got up to run after the others.

Pushing through the door, Logan looked hastily around a wide, empty hallway. A door to another room had been torn off its hinges and voices were coming from within.

“You should have left Revera alone Joker,” Two Face snarled.

“Harv, can’t we just talk this out. I really don’t like the idea of having to fight the lot of you… I might loose some of my teeth and then what would become of my smile!”

“You’re going to loose a lot more than teeth, by the time we’re done with you!” said one of the twins.

“Wait,” Dent said, “Good heads, we let you go. Bad heads, well….”

Logan peered into what seemed to be a large storage room in time to see Dent flip a coin high into the air and catch it with practiced dexterity. No one said anything as he carefully lifted his hand. Two Face smirked. “Looks like you’re out of luck. Come on boys!” He grabbed Joker’s robe and punched him hard against the wall.

Logan jumped into the fray, before anyone else had time to roll up his sleeves. With a yell, he grabbed Dent from behind, threw him over his shoulder and slammed him to the floor.

With a surprised splutter the twins barely had time to turn around, before Logan punched the one in the jaw and then slammed the next one’s head down on his knee. Even though he couldn’t use his claws, it felt good to fight, to let all his anger out. The thrill of battle was so strong he hardly cared when Croc kicked him with enough force to crush a horse.

Joker was still leaning in the corner, laughing like a maniac. “Go get them Tiger!” he shouted, as Logan recover from the kick and jumped right for Croc’s head, landing a heavy punch to the crocodile man’s jaw. 

Meanwhile, Two Face and the twins were getting back to their feet. “Get him!” Dent ordered. 

Grabbing Croc’s arm, Logan managed to get in a good kick to the face and some punches to the man’s neck, before Croc got a hold on him and threw to the floor. Barely had he rolled back to his feet, before the twins were on him. One had a crowbar, which he must have found somewhere in the room. Nonetheless, they only had the chance to get in a few blows, before Logan put them down. Taking the crowbar from one, he bashed it into the lower spine of the other then kneed the first one in the balls, before beating either side of his ribs with the iron tool.

With a roar, Croc charged, his razor mouth wide open, like an attacking shark.

Giving an animalistic yell himself, Logan took the crowbar in both hands and jumped to meet him. Hooking the end of his weapon in Croc’s mouth, he jerked down, setting the crowbar like a fishing hook and smashing Croc jaw first into floor so hard it cracked the concrete. Landing on the back of Croc’s neck, Logan jerked the crowbar viciously free and then brought it smashing down on the back of Croc’s skull.

“Raah!” Two Face managed to get Logan off guard, swinging a heavy wrench into the side of his head with an audible clank.

Stumbling off of Croc, Logan dropped the crowbar and fell to one knee, his head spinning. 

“You should have minded your own business, Freak!” Dent said, taking another swing, but this time Logan caught it with one hand. Giving a vicious growl, he yanked the wrench out of the other man’s fists.

“And you should have known better than to hit me with this wrench, Bub!” he snarled. 

Dent took a frightened step back, but before he could turn to run, Logan swung the wrench and hit him right in the stomach, knocking him across the room into a bunch of brooms and mops. 

Still growling, Logan sprung after him, intending to smash Dent’s face in… both of them, but there was a sudden bang, as Cash and a dozen other guards came into the hall. They turned into the storeroom with their tazors and truncheons already out.

“Drop the wrench Wolverine, NOW!” Cash ordered. For a moment Logan was ready to start beating down the guards, but he hesitated. Long enough to give it a second thought and then reluctantly dropped the tool. The guards were on him in a moment, beating him down to his knees and twisting his arms behind his back. 

“I warned you not to get violent!” Cash said, “I told you we’d take you right back to isolation!”

“Now, now Cashie,” put in the Joker, “If you’d been doing your job right, none of this would have happened. He was just looking out for his buddy is all. Check the security tapes, you’ll see!” He waved at a small camera mounted to the hall ceiling outside, then hopped over Croc’s blood to kick at Dent lying unconscious in the pile of cleaning supplies. “Though I must say, Wolverine,” he chuckled gleefully, “You really mopped the floor with Old Harv and his pals! A-hoo-hoo-hee! And to think, I was worried you’d never be a match for Crocy!”

One of the guards shoved Joker roughly aside so she could examine Dent. “Sir we need to get the medics down here now!” she shouted in real alarm and the Joker started laughing harder.

“Chin you and Sito see that they’re taken to the medical center as quickly as possible!” Cash ordered, “Sanders you get the Joker out of here and then check the tapes. The three of you, with me. We’re taking Wolverine right back to his padded cell.”

Pulling Logan up by his bound arms, Cash dragged him out into the hall.

“Bye bye, Wolvie! Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get out again!” Joker called, waving.

Cash let out a frustrated grunt, as he kicked the broken storeroom door out of the way, practically dragging Logan over the floor, as he tried to get out of there as quickly as possible. 

“You really done it now, Freak!” he said, once they were out of the Joker’s earshot.

“Bub, all I did was keep four lunatics from eating another one alive, maybe literally. If you’d been there, you probably would have done the same thing.”

“Don’t you see?” Cash snarled, “Joker set this up! I’d bet my only hand that he planned this to test you. And guess what, Freak, you passed with flying colors!” He shoved Logan roughly up some stairs.

“Bah,” Logan scoffed, “You all talk like he’s some manic mastermind, he’s just seems like a chump who knows how to push people’s buttons to me.”

“Well it don’t matter,” Cash said, “Cuz your going back into isolation and believe me its for the safety of the whole asylum! Come on, move it.”

They were going down the hall in the Intensive Treatment center, when Logan’s sharp hearing picked up a nearby voice, which made his blood freeze. Flinching, he stumbled to his knees, trying to listen and ignoring Cash’s curses to keep walking. 

The voice was a deep one, familiar; yet he didn’t know who it was. Though he hadn’t caught what it’d just said, he recognized Sharon’s voice replying. Apparently the two were in one of the adjoining rooms.

“I’m just saying that if he remembers much more, we all could be in real trouble,” she said.

“Well make sure he doesn’t remember. Increase his meds, do whatever you must to discredit him. If he’s ever able to testify, then…”

“Get up!” Cash shouted for the third time, “Alright. I’ve had it with you!” Grabbing Logan by the arms and the waist, Cash all but threw him over his shoulder and carried him away to the cells.

***

Several hours later, Logan was sitting on his cot, the deep voice still ringing about his head like a bad dream. He didn’t know why, but it scared him more than he would ever want to admit. The fact that it had been here, talking to Sharon - the one person in Arkham he had trusted. He just couldn’t stand it.

Suddenly, there was a small tap on the steel door and the hatch opened, as someone dropped in a linen-wrapped package. Crawling over to it, Logan unwrapped it to find two cigars, a book of matches, and a folded note. Unfolding the paper, Logan squinted, trying to read it in the dim light. Luckily and handwriting was large.

_Thanks for watching my back. Heard you like these. See you soon. ~ J_

Logan couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. Picking up one of the cigars he sniffed it and smiled, before grabbing the matches and crawling back to his cot. Right now he’d take anything that could get his mind off the voices he’d heard. 

With a sharp strike of a match, Logan gladly lit the Joker’s cigar.


	5. “It’s all About Exchange”

Sharon Patel looked pensive as she knocked on the door, a tape held in her hand.

“Come in,” came a deep voice.

“Dr. Van Dyke?” Sharon asked, stepping inside, “We need to speak.”

Van Dyke was a tall man, with dark brown eyes and blond hair. Taking off round glasses, he stood up, as Sharon entered. “What is it?” he asked.

She held up the tape. “I just had another session with Logan,” she explained grimly, “It took some heavy medication, but it turned out he had quite a lot to say.”

Van Dyke snatched the tape. “What? Did he say anything about me, or…?”

Sharon crossed her arms, glaring through her glasses. “Put it in and find out.”

Van Dyke frowned at her, but then crossed to a player and inserted the cassette tape.

“March 1st, 1996. Patient Unknown, alias Logan, aka Wolverine,” came Sharon’s voice.

“I have increased the patient’s medications, as recommended, but have been encountering increased resistance. I’m not sure why, but in the past week, I seemed to have lost nearly all my patient’s trust. After months of hard work and marked progress, Logan has suddenly come to view me with suspicion bordering on hostility. His moods during our sessions have degraded and I can barely get a word out of him. This morning he became violent when we tried to give him his medications and the nurses were forced to call the guards in so that he could be force-fed, something that has not been necessary since the first two weeks of his confinement here. I am going to try and find out the truth behind this sudden relapse, but I fear everything will be in vain.”

There was the sound of her going to the door and opening it. “Alright. I can see him now.”

Boots walked in and there was the sound of Cash’s voice. “Should I stand watch here, Dr. Patel? After the outburst this morning, I’m not sure…”

“Thank you, guardsman, but I think I’ll be fine. His medications seem to have left him quite placid.”

“If you say so, but I don’t recommend taking off the straightjacket.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

Cash left and there was a slight pause.

“Logan…? Logan, why are you shutting me out?”

There was no response and Sharon sighed, walking across the room. “I hate seeing it come to this. We were doing so well. What did I do to betray your trust?”

There still wasn’t a sound from Logan and Sharon changed her tone, speaking to the tape recorder. “I have decided to administer a dose of scopolamine, a truth serum.”

The sound of a few clinks and Sharon’s shoes on the floor were heard, as she prepared the serum and walked back to Logan.

“Don’t,” he growled, though there was an intoxicated slur in his tone.

“Logan, its alright. This won’t hurt you.”

“Stop it! Get away…”

“Shush, Logan, hold still…. There.”

“Bitch.”

Sharon stepped back. “What are you so angry about, Logan? What has changed in this pass week to make you like this?”

He didn’t answer and there was the sound of her walking around his chair, waiting for the drug to take effect. 

“Logan?” she said after a minute or so, “Logan, speak to me. I’m your doctor. It’s all right. You can tell me what’s wrong.”

There was a moment’s silence and then he answered in a reluctant mutter. “I remembered. Remembered what happened when I woke up.”

“What was it? What happened?” there was a tone of urgency in Sharon’s voice.   
“I… I was tied down,” he slurred, “In a room with no windows and red lights in my face. There were men there. They were in the shadows, talking… One said he didn’t think I was good enough. The other said that once he was finished I’d be unstoppable.”

“Do you know who these men were? Could you recognize them again?”

“I… they never said their names and I don’t know their faces. But I smelled them and their voices. I’d recognize the voices anywhere,” he was growling again. “One of them had an accent. The other had a deep voice.”

“So you could identify them to the police?”

He didn’t answer out loud, but the look he gave her must have said something, because Sharon responded with, “I see,” and stepped back. “Logan, I’m afraid this isn’t good. I’ll have to…”

“Don’t you want to here the rest of the story, Doc?” Logan snarled, “Or has your deep-voiced friend already told you?”

“Logan, I don’t…”

“Shut up and listen! That’s your job.”

There was a pause and then Logan continued. “I spent weeks there, tied down under those lights. Your friend was around the most. He hurt me and he was good at it. I never saw his face, but I saw plenty of Bruce Wayne. Pictures, videos, his name everywhere.”

“They were torturing you?”

“I think your friend referred to it as conditioning.”

“Logan, I didn’t…”

“Didn’t know? Don’t bullshit me! Whatever else you are, Doc, you’re a skilled nut-doctor. You’ve probably known since the first time you interviewed me.”

Sharron didn’t deny it.

“You lied to me, Doc! You’ve been telling me I’m delusional, covering this up. And what now, bitch? You’ll report this to your friends and then we’ll both be in trouble, won’t we?” He grunted and there was some scuffs and thuds as he struggled up out of his chair.

“Logan, stop. I’m sorry. Just sit back down. We’ll talk about this.”

“Make me. Or call in Cash, why don’t you?! Bet he’d like to talk about this too.”

“Logan!” There was the sound of her walking quickly across the office. “If you tell anyone else!”

There was the sudden sound of metal blades scraping against each other. Sharon gave a started yelp, even as Logan cried out in pain and fell to the floor with a thud.

“Oh God!” Sharon muttered she hurried back to the desk and then the tape came to an abrupt end.

Van Dyke looked over at her and Sharon pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “He extended his claws and nearly killed me, while I was trying to get him to sit back down. The cuffs knocked him out immediately, but I’m not sure what he would have done if they hadn’t worked. He’s out of control. I’ve seen others like this. He’s been wronged, he knows it and he will fight us with all he has now.”

“Fuck,” cursed Van Dyke, “If he tells… Do you think anyone would believe him?”

“I’m not sure. While his story certainly sounds like the raving of a paranoid schizophrenic, there might be someone who will listen. You know how righteous Cash can be and Logan was right. It was obvious from day one that he has suffered from abuse. Should another doctor examine him, an investigation may be approved.”

“Damn it!”

“What you did was sick, Kurt.” Sharon crossed his arms, “I never should have agreed to this.”

“Don’t you turn against me now, Sharon!” Van Dyke said, giving her a vicious look. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me!”

Sharon didn’t say anything for a moment, but then she averted her eyes and sighed. “So what are we going to do?”

“First off, destroy this tape!” Van Dyke said, pulling it out and throwing it back to her. “I’ll go to the boss and see what he wants us to do, but in the meantime make sure Logan doesn’t say anything. Threaten him, drug him, whatever you need to do.”

“I expect threats would just make him madder and he’s just going to keep fighting the medications. Still, I’ll see what can be done. Kurt, listen. I recommended against letting him out of isolation again and I think Cash did as well, but nonetheless, Cidelle signed the permission this morning. I can only assume someone bribed him.”

“The Joker?”

Sharon nodded. 

“Hrm,” Van Dyke frowned and sat down, looking pensive.

“What should we do?”

“Nothing,” Van Dyke said, “I’m not sure why, but the boss wants us to stay out Joker’s way.”

“What? You’re on the take?”

“Look, last time I talked to the boss, he told me he was working on plan B and to do whatever the Joker asked.”

“I don’t like it, Kurt. Using Logan is one thing, but the Joker really is crazy. The boss didn’t explain anything else?”

“I don’t like it either, Sharon. But after the fuckup with Wolverine, I’m just glad he’s talking to me at all.”

Sharon frowned and then turned to leave. “I know how much you want your revenge on Wayne Enterprises, Kurt, but this is going too far.”

“It’s under control, Sharon!”

She glared at him and then left the office. 

***

The common room was unusually quite. The TV was off and only few patients were there. Ivy was painting flowers on a canvas over in her own corner, while an old man sat in the chair near by, drooling and staring into nothingness. The guard sitting near the vending machines was reading a magazine and Logan had the sofa to himself. Lying on his back, he turned slowly through the pages of Walden, trying to make sense of the words through the haze of medications.

No one stirred, not even when the door opened and a fourth patient was escorted into the room. Glancing about, Joker smiled widely when he saw Logan. “Wolvie, I was hoping to find you here!” he said, leaning over the end of the couch and pushing the book aside, so he could look down into Logan’s face.

Logan didn’t say anything, just glared. He felt generally apathetic and dull, thanks to all the medications and the Joker’s voice was already giving him a headache.

“You have no idea how difficult it was to get you out of isolation!” Joker exclaimed, “Had to play my best cards! You must have been a very _bad_ boy!”

Logan snorted and tried to pull his book back between them.

“Tisk! Tisk!” Joker clucked, “This won’t do at all!” he grabbed the book and slammed it closed.

Logan stared blankly at him.

“… I will have to talk to the nurses about your meds. I’ve seen corpses more animated than you,” Joker laughed, “Nope, nope! Time to get up now!”

“Let GO!” Logan snarled, as Joker grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up.

“Come on, we’ll play a game!”

“What game? I don’t want to play a game.”

“Just a harmless game of chess. For me! PLEEESE!?” 

Logan glared, looking very grumpy, but he finally sighed and got up.

“Oh boy!” The Joker chuckled gleefully, as he went to the table and began setting up pieces. “You can be black and I’ll be white! Ah-hee-hee!”

“Fine! Just give me back my book,” growled Logan, snatching Walden possessively, as he sat down. 

The game started off at a dull pace, neither one of them was giving much thought to their moves. The Joker was babbling about this or that and Logan was still apathetic and drugged. 

“…and Harv and his buddies are still in the hospital! Sounds like they’ll be there for a while too! Ah-ha-ha! You really showed them. Course with Harv gone, running this place will be almost too easy! Hey! It’s your move! Been your move for almost three minutes now.”

“Hrm? Oh.” Logan glanced at the board and moved a pawn. 

“You look troubled, Wolverine. Things not going so well?”

Logan glared. “I think my doctor wants me dead.”

Joker shook his head, clucking his tongue in sympathy, “What _is_ this world coming to!? Would you like me to have her poisoned? Or, Ah-ha-hee, we could send her a rabid rat hidden in a birthday cake! I do believe the lovely Dr. Patel’s birthday is just around the corner! Hee-hee! I always did love surprise parties!”

Logan looked at him, then blinked and shook his head. “I’d rather just get out of here. Were you serious, when you said you could escape whenever you wanted?”

“Serious?! Of course I was serious! Well.. Hrm-hee-ha, as serious as I ever am.” He moved a bishop. 

“Could you get me out of here?”

“Wolvie-wolves! I certainly could, but that’s not the way things work! You want a favor like that then you’ll have to do something’s for me. It’s all about exchange and relationship. You see? You and I… You’ve helped me, so I’ve helped you… Help me out some more and I’ll get you free!”

“What kind of help do you want?”

“Oh nothing too big. Might just need you to prove a point, or give a reminder to some of the more stubborn bozos around here.” Joker waved a hand, “It’ll be easy.” He frowned. “Boring probably. You know maybe we should both get out of here. Ever since you beat the tar out of Croc, Harv and the gang I’ve been itching to know what Old Batzy’s been up to. Your move again.”

Logan glanced at the board and moved his first knight into play. 

Joker’s smile widened and the grabbed his bishop and mover it horizontally over the bored to take Logan’s knight.

“And Jester takes Dark Knight! A-HA-ha-ha!”

Logan frowned. “That’s a bishop and it can’t move like that.”

“Says who?!” demanded Joker. 

“Says the rules.”

“Well, who bloody cares about rules? And who can even remember all the rules to this stupid game?” 

Logan opened his mouth to argue, hesitated, looked down at the bored then suddenly grinned. Grabbing a rook, he barreled through a pawn and took Joker’s bishop. “Castle takes pawn and bishop!” he said. 

“A-hoo-hoo-ho! Now you’re getting it! I sacrifice three pawns to take the castle!” he moved three pawns against the castle then gleefully knocked all four pieces from the board. 

Logan rubbed his stubble staring at the board then looked up past the Joker. “Whoa! Pam just took off her shirt!”

“WHAT!?” Joker turned around and Logan hastily rearranged the pieces.

“She’s not- You sneaky bastard.”

Logan smiled, picked up his other knight and moved it in sequence across the board, taking all but two of Joker’s pieces and landing with the king cornered. “Check.”

Joker glared, “Hrm…” this time he rubbed his jaw then glanced at Logan. “BOO! AH-HA-HA-Ha!” he lunched forward laughing like a maniac right in Logan’s face.

Startled, Logan rocked backward nearly falling off his chair. Joker took advantage of his confusion to spin the board around. “Oh. Looks like I’m black now,” he said sitting calmly back in his chair. He looked at the situation carefully. “Aha,” He moved one of Logan’s- now his- pieces, taking the second to last white piece and leaving the king alone and trapped. “Check mate!”

Logan looked sulkily at the board then glared bitterly at Joker. “I don’t think so, you cheating bastard!” With a roar, he suddenly flipped the whole board into Joker’s face and proceeded to turn over the table with a crash. 

Joker really did fall out of his chair in surprise, rubbing his eye, where one of the pieces had hit him.

“Game Over!” Logan said standing up triumphantly. 

Around the room everyone was staring in shock at the sudden outburst of violence. Pam was holding her brush extended and the old man was still drooling, but had a creepily gleeful expression in his eyes. The guard had turned pale and nervously put down his magazine. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded. 

Joker looked at them then back at Logan, before bursting out laughing. He laughed so hard, he started rolling over, holding his side. Logan watched him and then started to laugh as well. He wasn’t sure why, but watching the Joker laugh was funny enough on its own and his meds were practically going disco in his head. 

“I said, what the hell is going on!” the guard shouted, grabbing his truncheon and stomping over, “You know rules about violence. I won’t have you two turning tables and fighting, while I’m…”

“Oh Carter... Aha-ha-ho-ho, Shut up! We were just playing a game, weren’t we, Wolvie?”

“Yeah,” Logan smiled and shrugged his shoulders, as he picked up his book, “It was just a little game of chess. No big deal.” Smiling widely at the guard, Logan sat innocently back down in his chair.

Joker got up off the floor recovering from his laughter, “Carter, Carter. You really should listen to me more often.”

Carter blanched and then set his jaw, “I told you, Joker. I’ve had enough of you bullying me around. The only reason I haven’t told Cash, is…”

“Carter,” Joker said, suddenly putting an arm around the guard and speaking to him like they were old mates, “You know, I don’t think I ever really introduced you to my new friend. You really should get to know each other.” He swung the guard around to face Logan, “This is Wolverine. I’m sure you’ve heard of him; the guy who broke Croc’s jaw in two and put Harvey Dent and his whole gang in the hospital. You know the story.”

Carter turned paler and stared at Logan. Logan looked back and then smiled. “Hey, Bub.”

“I, I don’t…” stammered Carter, nervously and tried to pull out of the Joker’s arms.

“Don’t go, Carty, I want you and me and Wolverine to have a nice little chat about that deal _you didn’t hold up_. And I know just the place too. We wouldn’t want those nasty cameras spying on us.”

“No!” Carter struggled out of the Joker’s hold and lifted his truncheon. Standing up, Logan caught the guard’s wrist and twisted the weapon out of his grip. “I’ll take that,” he growled and then took a firm hold on Carter’s shoulder. “Lead the way,” he said, nodding to the Joker. 

Joker gave a satisfied chuckle. “Wolvie, I just knew I could count on you!”


	6. “Laughing all the Way”

“I’m going to ask you again, Wolverine. What is the Joker up to?” Cash was leaning on the table, looking furious. 

Tied to a chair, Logan licked some blood off his lips and glared back, “Why do you keep asking me? How should I know what that lunatic is up to? Go ask him.”

“I know you’ve been working for him, you son of a bitch! Maybe I don’t have the proof on tape yet, but Carter, Gomez, and O’Bryan all got done-over by someone and now nearly a dozen of the night-staff call in sick on the same fucking night?”

“Must be something going around.”

Cash backhanded him over the mouth. “Don’t bullshit me, Wolverine! I know the Joker. He’s planning an escape isn’t he?” He grabbed Logan’s uniform, “Tell me what you know. Do you have any idea what that maniac could do once he’s loose?”

“I don’t know shit Cash. If he’s planning something, he hasn’t told me.”

Cash glared in Logan’s face then viciously let go of his shirt and turned, pacing the floor and rubbed his head in frustration. Two other guards stood by watching him anxiously. 

“I thought you were better than this, Wolverine,” Cash said after a moment. “For all your violent outbursts, you seemed like a man who gave a damn about right and wrong and wanted to make responsible choices.” Cash looked at him, leaning on the table again, “But guess I was wrong. You’re just another slimy sucker, working as Joker’s crony. It’s disgusting!”

Logan glared bitterly back and licked his lips again. “So why don’t you just keep hitting me Cash? Show me just how much of a stand up, righteous guy _you_ are.”

Cash’s face darkened and he stepped back. “You aint worth it Scum,” he said in a harsh whisper then turned to the other guards, “Take him back to his cell and tell Frank I want the watch working overtime to-” The com on his ear beeped, “Hold on. - Yeah?”

Shaking hair from his face and listening closely, Logan was able to hear the voice on the others side.

“Cash, we need you up at the back desk. _He’s_ here and he’s got Crain back.”

“Scarecrow’s been caught?”

“Yeah. Warden wants you and one other guard to come up here and escort him back to his cell.”

“Right. Macy and I will be there asap.”

Cash got off his com and waved to one of the other guards. “We’re needed at the back entrance. The Batman’s just collared Scarecrow.”

“Batman?” asked the guard nervously, “He’s here?”

“That’s what I said,” snapped Cash, “Who else would be dropping lunatics off at this time of night? Now come on. Jones, you get Wolverine back to his cell and make sure he’s secure. I still think he and the Joker are up to something.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jones replied and walked over to untie Logan from the chair and chain his arms behind him.

They all left and Logan didn’t say anything, as Jones escorted him down empty halls. It was past ten and most of the doctors and day-staff had gone home. The imamates were locked up for the night, leaving only the night guards and maintenance staff. Jones and Logan were passing the steps to the upper offices, when Logan caught a sent, which froze him in his tracks. Sniffing, he growled low in his chest and glared up the steps, with a predatory expression. 

“Get moving, Scum!” snapped Jones, shoving Logan’s shoulder and gripping his truncheon with his other hand. 

Logan didn’t answer. Instead, he suddenly slammed his head backward, smacking Jones hard on the forehead. Then he rolled foreword, maneuvering his hands to the front, before turning around and grabbing the guard by the collar. A knee in the stomach, another slam from Logan’s hard skull and a final face-plant to the wall in fast succession, left Jones in an unconscious heap on the floor. 

Hastily, Logan found the key to unchain his cuffs then turned to the steps, following the sent, with the instinct of a hound fixed on a coon. It was faint, but Logan was sure it was the smell of Bruce Wayne. 

Following his nose, Logan made his way up to the security door, which led from the cells to the offices. Crouching behind a corner, he waited with a hunter’s patients until a guard came through. With a growl, Logan pounced, just as the man was turning the corner. Grabbing his shirt, Logan slammed him to the floor and made sure to jerk his com away, before he could signal for help.

“Hey! What?”

Logan sniffed, frowning. “I know you,” he growled, “You’re one of Joker’s friends, one of his sources. Sonny Jim, wasn’t it?”

“Uh… who’s asking?”

“I’m also a friend of Joker,” Logan said, “Give me your door-card and id pass. Now!”

“Hey, yeah sure.” Sonny Jim, fumbled nervously with his card and shoved it into Logan’s hand, “Any friend of the Joker is a friend‘a mine. The Id number is 337912.”

Logan repeated the number rapidly under his breath once, before saying, “Thanks, Bub,” and slamming the man’s skull against the stone floor, knocking him out. 

Turning the card over in his hand, Logan went to the security door and slid it through, before rapidly punching Sonny Jim’s number into the keypad. There was a beep and the bolt came undone. With a satisfied smirk, Logan pushed his way through. “He really does run this place,” he muttered and tossed the card back into Jim’s limp hand. However, he grew serious, as he picked up Wayne’s sent again, stronger than before. He also caught a second sent, which peeked his interest. It was Sharon. 

The trail ended at the hall outside Warden Sharp’s office. Ducking behind the empty receptionist’s desk, Logan could dimly see three people silhouetted outside Sharp’s door. The tallest of them had what seemed to be pointed ears.

“As I explained to the Warden,” said Pointy-eared Man impatiently, “I would like to speak to one of your patients here. I believe he’s called Logan and he was confined here at the end of last year.”

“I thought your job was to catch criminals,” Sharon said coldly, “Why would you need to speak with one who is _already_ locked away?”

“My _job_ is to see that justice is done and there was something about Logan’s case that didn’t add up. I’ve been meaning to follow up on it for a month now and while I was here, I…”

“Listen, Batman, I don’t know who you think you are, but I can’t allow masked vigilantes to just walk in and start harassing my patients!”

“Sharon! This _is_ the Batman. Surly we can…”

“I’m sorry Warden, but Logan is one of my high risk patients and at the moment and he’s been going through a rough time. I won’t have him dragged from his bed and questioned, just because the _Batman_ snapped his fingers at us!” With unusual sass, she snapped her fingers at Pointy-eared Man in demonstration and then put a hand on her hip. “Maybe if our anonymous benefactor would like to make an appointed, during regulated visiting hours…”

“Sharon! I really think you should…” 

“No, it’s alright Warden. She brings up some good points. It is rather late. I was surprised to find Dr. Patel still here actually.”

“I’m backed up on reports,” Sharon said coolly. 

“Of course. Maybe I’ll come back later. Warden.”

“Batman. Thanks again for bringing back the Scarecrow.”

“Don’t mention it.” Pointy-eared Man turned and strode down the hall, a long back cape swishing in his wake. As he passed the reception’s desk, Logan frowned in confusion. He’d been sure that he’d followed the sent of Bruce Wayne, but clearly he wasn’t here and now Logan was wondering if his memory of last November was more addled than he’d thought. After all, he had fought the Batman then and now he couldn’t even remember what the Batman had smelled like. Had Bruce Wayne and Batman somehow gotten mixed up in his head since then?

“Sharon, I don’t see why you put up such a fuss,” Warden Sharp said disapprovingly, “The Batman may be a vigilante, but he’s one of Gotham’s greatest heroes.”

“I really don’t have time to discuss this right now. Like I said, I have reports to finish.”

“What reports? I wasn’t aware…”

“I’m writing a report for the APA’s Abnormal Physiology Journal,” Sharon said, waving him off.

“Oh. Well, I should probably try to get the Scarecrow processed, so I can get home before midnight. Good night Dr. Patel.”

“Good night Warden.”

Sharon left and Warden Sharp returned to his office, where Logan heard him call for Cash over the coms. 

Once the hall was empty, Logan slipped out, still bewildered by the false lead on Wayne and beginning to wonder why he was still so obsessed with the man anyway. Curiously, he followed Batman’s trail down the silent hallway. 

He’d gone maybe twenty feet, when he heard some faint voices, coming from a nearby room. He recognized the man with the deep voice and Sharon again.

“And now you say the Batman is nosing about?!” demanded the man.

“He knows something’s up and I’m pretty sure he saw right through me a moment ago. God, he’s scarier than half the raving lunatics here.”

“Listen. I don’t care what the boss says anymore! We need to get this mess cleaned up and that means getting rid of Wolverine, before Batman, or anyone else finds out the truth.”

“Kurt, you can’t mean..!”

“Of course I mean it Sharon!”

“But isn’t he… you know invulnerable?”

“I’ll think of something. After all I had plenty of time to study his limits last October.”

Logan growled. Clinching a fist, his body became tense and coiled, like a stalking beast, but then faltered, when he heard a whisper behind him.

“Phiss, Wolvie! Over here.”

Turning, Logan saw the Joker leaning out of the security door, Sonny Jim’s card in his hand.

“This way!” Joker whispered, slipping out into the passageway and leading Logan toward a side hall. 

Logan hesitated, glanced back in the direction of the man’s voice, but then fell in behind the Joker.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded in a whisper.

Joker chuckled, as he slid Jim’s card and opened the door to a maintenance stairwell. “Hoo-hoo! I was just about to ask you the same thing! To think I was worried about getting you out of your cell, only to find you halfway to the door already. Hee-hee! I though I made sure _not_ to tell you the plan.”

“What? What plan?”

“Why, the escape plan of course!” and he took out a new card, using it on a final door and throwing it triumphantly open to reveal…

“The laundry room?” Logan asked peering past the Joker’s shoulder. 

“Yep yep!” said Joker, smiling widely as he hurried over to a corner. Opening an “Out-of Order” washing machine, he took out a large black bag, which he threw over his shoulder.

“Joan is _such_ a sweetheart! Ah-ha-ha-ha! This way,” he said, waving Logan towards the back of the room. 

Logan glanced around the empty room, as he followed. “You know the Batman was just here. You really think…”

“Batman?” Joker asked, pausing to glare over his shoulder, “What was the flying rat doing here?”

“He’d just captured some guy called Scarecrow.”

“Oh. Hrm… Well he’s probably long gone by now.” Joker said, waving a hand dismissively and continuing on his way. 

Logan frowned. “Hey, don’t the laundry crew usually work overnight?” he asked, after another moment. 

“Didn’t you hear? They called in sick!” Joker laughed and card-swiped his way into another hall and then another big room, a warehouse, with some trucks parked next to large overhead doors. A guard was standing by one of the trucks and he stepped forward, as they came in.

“Stop!” he ordered, shining a light on the Joker.

“Ah Carty!” Joker greeted gleefully, “You remembered!”

Carter scowled and lowered his flashlight. “I got you the keys,” he said, grudgingly tossing a set of keys to the Joker. “And all the other cars have been disabled along with the turret guns and emergency lights.”

“That’a boy! I knew you could do it! Now,” He chuckled, looked at Logan and nodded toward Carter, “I think he deserves a little nap, don’t you Wolvie?”

Logan stepped forward and before Carter could shout “Hey!” Logan had knocked him out cold. 

“Why didn’t you tell me we were escaping tonight?” Logan demanded, as he dropped Carter to the floor.

From where he was carefully opening the overhead door, Joker smirked at him. “What?! And spoil the surprise? Ah-hee-hee-hoo! Get in.” Joker jumped into the driver’s seat and Logan rolled his eyes, getting quickly into the seat beside him. 

“A-hrm-hr-hrem! Here we go! AH-HA-HA-HA!” Slamming down the gas, the Joker streaked out of the warehouse and turned sharply onto the drive, speeding toward the gate.

A spotlight suddenly shone down on them and Logan gripped the side, as Arkham’s alarms began to blare. He could see the dark shapes of guards turning guns on them in the nearest turret, but the sound of rapid fire never came. Instead the Joker just laughed harder and smashing right to the gates, running them over and continuing to speed down the road. 

“Gotham here we come!” he shouted and drove right past a turn in the road, jumping the curb and driving up onto the rocky terrain. “A-ha-ha-ha!”

“What… the Hell… are you doing!?” Logan demanded, trying not to crash his head on the roof with every bump they hit, “The bridge is back the other way!”

“And that is just where they’d be expecting us, Wolvie Old Boy! Nope, nope! We’re taking the road less traveled!”

As he spoke the Joker disentangled a harness from the bag and buckled it on. “Happy landings!” he laughed and kicked open the door. 

Logan looked out the window in time to see a rapidly approaching cliff edge. “What the fuck! Are you mad?!”

Joker just laughed harder and then jumped out the door, as the truck drove full speed over a towering cliff. 

The last thing Logan saw before he and the truck were smashed to bits was Gotham’s city-lights reflecting off the bay and the Joker’s bag parachuting out to carry him gently down to the water’s surface, laughing all the way.


	7. “It’ll be fun!”

Logan woke to the splash of icy saltwater in his face and the burning pain of rapidly healing injuries. Gasping and coughing up blood and water, he pulled some broke glass out of his face and neck, before getting hit by another wave and ground down on rough stones and wrecked metal. Overhead, lights flashed, as the Arkham guards finally got to the cliff’s edge and he could hear them shouting for spotlights and equipment. Realizing it wouldn’t be long until he was either discovered, or swept away by the tide, Logan struggled out of the crumpled remains of the truck and fought the harsh waves, as he dragged himself across the rocks and wave pools at the cliff’s base.

About a hundred feet down the coast, he found a cave and finally struggled up to dry stone. Exhausted, he lay flat, catching his breath and letting his body heal then sniffed and sat up with a growl. “You Bastard!” he cursed and glared into the shadows of the cave.

“Hoo-hoo-HA! I guess your file wasn’t exaggerating after all!” laughed the Joker, stepping forward. His dark green hair was still wet, but he’d changed from the Arkham uniform to an obnoxious purple suit and he had a gun in one hand.

“You threw me off a fucking cliff!” Logan snarled, lunching up.

Joker lifted his gun to aim at Logan’s forehead, but Logan slapped it easily away and grabbed Joker by his suit collar, slamming him against the rough cavern wall. “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now?”

“Wolvie, it was just a harmless experiment! And I did what you asked. I got you out of Arkham. So you got a little wet in the process…” Joker reached over and pulled another bit of glass out of Logan’s neck and then thoughtfully brushed some sand off his shoulder for him. “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, right? Ah-ha-ha! But seriously, Wolverine, do you really want us to fight at a time like this?” He pulled out of Logan’s grasp and turned about the cave lifting his arms and looking out over the bay. “We’re free! The city is ours for the taking and nothing can stop us now!”

Logan glared then crossed his arms. “How are we going to cross the bay? I’m not exactly the best swimmer.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Wolves. I got a boat!” Giggling, Joker hopped down to where an underground river surfaced and sure enough there was a small motorboat moored there. “I also got you some clothes! Hee-hee. In case you haven’t noticed you old ones have gotten rather… risqué.”

Scowling, Logan glanced at his uniform, which was indeed torn and tattered and not exactly in the most convenient manner either.

“Here!”

Logan looked up in time to get a pair of pants in the face, followed by a couple of boot in his gut. The sweater, however, fell short. 

“I hope they fit!” Joker said, “Harley does the all the shopping. She never was too good at measuring people up!”

Logan frowned, glaring from the clothes to the Joker. “You drove me over a cliff, Clown.”

“So what? I’ve been over the edge for years! Believe me, life’s more fun this way! Now, are you coming, or do you want to wait for the tide?”

“Fuck it,” Logan muttered, but started changing into the new clothes. The pants and boots were a little large, but it was good to get out of the wet rags and into something warm. “How long have you been planning all this?” he asked, as he got in the boat, “Did you really get this all ready in just the last week?”

“Course not! I always have an escape plan on hand! Ha-ha! Never know when the itch to hit the city will come. Now hang on. HA-hahaha-HA!” He turned on the boat and sped out over Gotham Bay, leaving Arkham behind in the night. 

They made it to the mainland without incident, landing north of Gotham at a private wharf. Logan hadn’t said much during the ride, despite the Joker’s continual babble about opportunities, freedom and the conquest of Gotham.

“You really are insane,” Logan finally said, as they stepped off the boat, “You actually think you can just walk out of Arkham and take over the whole fucking city?”

“Well, I’ll have to get rid of Batman first!” growled the Joker clinching his fists, “But don’t worry. I have a plan for that!”

“Puddin!” squeaked a high female voice and Logan looked up to a see a slim woman, dressed in a red and black jester’s costume running down the dock. 

“Harlequin!” Joker shouted and opened his arms, as the girl literally leapt into them.

“I thought you’d never get out of there! You have no idea how lonely I’ve been without you! When I got your message, I was so happy. Did you miss me?”

Joker chuckled and pinched her breast, causing her to give squeak of pleasure. Putting his arm over her shoulders, Joker turned to Logan.

“Harley, meet my newest associate, Wolverine. Wolvie, Miss Harley Quinzel.”

“Enchanted,” Harley said, stepping forward and offering a delicate hand.

Hesitantly, Logan took her hand and shook it, glancing between her and Joker. “You’ve had this waiting for you and you didn’t escape until now?” he asked dubiously. 

“What’s with the big old cuffs?” Harley asked, looking at Logan’s wrists.

Joker grinned, “Harley, Wolverine has some unique, ah, skill sets to bring to the table. Allow me to demonstrate!” Grabbing Logan’s arm, Joker suddenly shot him in the wrist, through the bolt in the steel cuffs.

With a roar of surprised pain, Logan instinctively socked Joker in the jaw with his other hand, knocking the clown head over heels across the dock.

“Puddin!” Harley cried in alarm, running after him. “Puddin, are you alright?”

Joker sat up laughing and holding a broken nose and Logan glared at the two of them, as he shook off the broken cuff and experimentally extended his claws on that hand. “You better watch it, Bub,” he growled. 

“You better watch it!” shouted Harley furiously, as she helped Joker to his feet. 

“Wolvie, I was doing you a favor. How else were you planning on getting out of those cuffs? It’s not like any harm was done.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” Logan snapped, as he cut off the other cuff with his free claws, “Getting unexpectedly shot pisses me off.”

Joker laughed and spun the gun in his hand, “Alright, next time I’ll be sure to let you know first.”

Harley was looking at Logan claws dubiously. “What are they some kind of weapons you built in to your self?”

“Something like that,” Joker laughed, putting his arm around her again, “Our new friend here is a mutant!”

“Mutant uhn? Heard they were dangerous.”  
“Course they are! And Wolvie’s the most dangerous of the lot! HA-HA! Just what we need, if we’re going to take down the Bat!”

Logan crossed his arms. “Who ever said, I’d help you? Now that I’m free, I reckon I can do whatever I damn please.”

“Wolvie!” whined the Joker, “You can’t leave now! Not after all we’ve been through together. Besides, don’t tell me you don’t want to settle your own score with Old Batzy.”

Logan just glared.

“I pay well.”

Logan still glared.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun!”

Shaking his head, Logan sighed. “Cash was right,” he muttered. “Fine. I’ll stick around for a bit. Now, lets get the hell off this wharf, before the coastguard finds us.” He strode past them, leading the way to a dark parking lot.

Chuckling, Joker took a detonator out of his pocket and blew a hole in the boat, before following behind, Harley still at his side. “My car’s the purple convertible,” he informed.

“Yeah. So I assumed,” Logan said jumping into the back. “It is the only car in the lot.”

“I’ll drive!” Harley volunteered, getting behind the wheel, “And just so you know, Mr. J, everything’s ready at the new hideout. The packages came, just like you said.”

“Thanks, Harles!” Joker said, as he got into the passenger seat.

“What packages?” Logan demanded. 

“Oh, you’ll see. It’s all part of the plan, Wolvie Old Boy! HA-ha-ha-HA!”

Logan crossed his arms, and Harley put the convertible in gear, switching on the headlights and pulling out onto a mountain road.

They’d only been driving for a few minutes, when another car came striking past in the opposite lane. As fast as it was going, they barley had time to see more than the blinding lights, before it roared by. Harley squeaked and had to slam the breaks to keep from driving off the steep embankment.

“ROAD HOG!” Joker yelled, turning furiously in his seat. 

Logan also turned and both of them saw the flaming jet engine of the car, before it screeched to a surprisingly fast halt and turned around.

“Fuck,” Logan cursed, recognizing the large, black, armored vehicle. 

“How the hell did he find us so fast!” screamed the Joker, “Hit it Harley!”

“Right on it, Mr. J!” she yelled, putting the car back into gear and flooring the gas. The roar of Batman’s engine was heard behind them, as Harley sped around the next curve and on up the road.

“We’re never going to be able to out run that!” Logan growled, as the Batmobil followed, quickly gaining.

“Shut up!” Joker shouted and stood in his seat, aiming his gun and firing at Batman’s windshield. The bullets bounced uselessly off and Batman only sped up some more, ramming the rear bumper. Joker fell back into his seat and Harley gave a high-pitched scream, barely keeping enough control over the car to save them from crashing into the cliff wall.

Moving into the outer lane, Batman started to pass them. With a snarl, Joker reached over and grabbed Harley’s steering wheel, ramming the convertible into the front of the Batmobile, in an attempt to knock it over the rail. Metal crunched, sparks flew and Harley screamed again. 

Turning, Logan could see the Batman’s grim façade, through thick glass. Then there was another smash, as the Joker once again tried to ram the larger car off the road. The clown’s manic laugh was followed be the deafening bang of gunfire, as the he shot over Logan’s head. This time he managed to crack Batman’s windshield and the Batmobile fell back. Tires screeched and Harley managed to get them around another sharp turn in the road. 

“HA-ha-ha-HA!” Joker laughed, reloading his gun. “You just going to sit there, Wolvie?”

“You seem to be doing well enough!” Logan shouted back, “You don’t need my help to wreck our second car in one night.”

“There’s a bridge up ahead!” Harley yelled, as the lights of the Batmobile spilled over them again. 

“Harley! Do we got any grenades?” yelled the Joker, digging around under the seat.

“No!”

“What about dynamite?”

“No. Sorry Mr. J!”

“Then what good will…”

There was a sudden bang, followed by a whirl and the thud, as a large harpoon was fired from the Batmobile and smashed into the back of their car. Caught fast, there was a sudden jerk, as Batman put on the breaks.

“Meh! Come on!” grunted Harley, flooring the gas and causing tires to squeal and rubber to burn. Reverse rockets flared on the sides of the Batmobile and there was the groan of metal, as they were pulled backward. “No, No!” Harley cried. 

“Hold on to something!” Logan roared and jumped onto the back trunk. Extending his claws, he cut the heavy cable in one sweep. There was a crack and Logan tumbled off the back, as the convertible zoomed forward. Down the road, the Batmobile spun out of control, before screeching backwards, through the railing and off the mountainside, with a tremendous crash.

“Hoo HOO- Ah-HA-HA!” laughed the Joker, as Harley pulled the car to a halt then he looked past Logan and said, “Oh, Shit!”

Getting up off the pavement, Logan looked over his shoulder in time to see the Batman rocketing through the air and opening a black hang glider.

“Hurry up! Get in!” shouted Joker, kicking the door open, as Logan leapt into the car, “Go Harle!”

They sped toward the bridge, the Batman gliding above them, looking more like his namesake than ever before. 

“Where’s my gun?! Aha!” Joker fired into the air, but Batman swept from side to side, making him easy to miss in the dark, as he bore down upon them. 

Bang! BANG! 

Finally the Joker hit the glider and it broke apart, but by then Batman was right above them and he bailed, dropping from the glider and landing with a thud on the hood of Joker’s car. Harley screamed, slamming the breaks, as the black cape obscured the windshield. Joker fired his gun, but Batman had already moved. 

With a swish of his cape, Batman flipped over the windshield and the Joker’s head, knocking the gun from his hand and punching him hard across the mouth. With a cry, Joker was knocked into Harley’s lap, causing the car to swerve wildly, as she pulled to a stop.

Snarling, Logan grabbed Batman’s cape and pulled him back. “Come here Bub!” Logan growled and punched Batman hard enough to make him grunt in pain. However, before Logan could get in a second hit, or extend his claws, Batman threw a battarang in his face and escaped his grip, spinning around and hitting Logan in the back of the neck.

“Go Harley!” shouted the Joker, pulling a baseball bat from the floor and getting back up.

Logan swung his claws, but missed as the car jerked forward again and the Batman dodged, ending up in the seats between Joker and Logan. As they sped over the bridge, Joker swung his bat and Logan his claws, while Batman dodged and parried, somehow managing to avoid getting hit by more than a grazing blow.

“Why won’t you stand still!” yelled Joker, lunging recklessly forward and swinging the bat with all he had. Batman ducked and Logan did as well, the bat narrowing missing the top of his head. 

“Watch where you swing that, Bub!” he yelled then grunted as Batman’s boot hit him hard in the mouth and sent him tumbling over the trunk of the car. As he hit the cement, Logan grabbed the frayed wires of the Batman’s harpoon, still stuck fast into the back of the car. Blood and gravel flew and Logan gritted his teeth as he was dragged over the road’s surface, struggling to pull himself back up.

“Stop the car!” came Batman’s voice.

“Puddin!” yelled Harley.

Climbing back onto the car, Logan saw the Joker unconscious and Batman leaning over the Harley, trying to take control of the wheel.

“Hey Bats!” Logan shouted somersaulting over the backseat. Batman turned and Logan’s boots smacked solidly into his face. Grabbing Batman’s shoulder, Logan flipped him hard against the door, before throwing him from the car. There was a crash and a grunt, as Batman tumbled head over heels on the pavement and then vanished into the dark. Harley floored the gas.

Wiping some blood off his mouth, Logan settled down into the passenger seat. “He always that hard to get rid of?” he asked.

“You have no idea!” Harley answered.

In the backseat, Joker groaned and sat up rubbing his head.

“Well, well,” he chuckled when he saw them, “Looks like we won!”

“We lost him, Mr. J! Wolverine tossed him out like a sack of dirty laundry.”

“Did you kill him?”

Logan shrugged and Joker scowled. “Then we haven’t seen the last of Old Bats…. What are you doing in my seat?”

Logan shrugged again, “You were taking a nap.”

“Well I’m finished! Move!”

Logan rolled his eyes and climbed over the seats, as Joker scrambled past the other way. 

“Wolvie!” Joker said with a shove. “You’ve torn your clothes again.”

“Oh?” Harley turned in her seat to look and Joker slapped her, “Keep you eyes on the road, Whore!”

“Yes, Mr. J.”

Logan frowned and then self-consciously folded his hands over his lap.


	8. “With a Laugh and a Bang”

Joker’s secret hideout turned out to be a rundown summer camp for boys called Happy Woods. Apparently it’d been shut down for quite some time, because a couple of the cabin’s roofs had collapsed and a rotting pine tree had fallen into the pool, which was cracked and partly full of brown rainwater and dead leaves. A broken swing set and battered canoes could be seen by the light coming from the back windows of main building. It was a surprisingly large two-story building, with broken screen doors and several carved wooden pillars. Once upon a time, it must have been quite a nice summer camp, but that had to have been at least twenty years ago and now, on a rainy night at the end of winter, everything was cold, gray, waterlogged and rotting. 

Harley parked the battered purple convertible in the black shadow of a large cottonwood tree and Joker jumped out with a gleeful intake of cool air. “Just breath the fresh air Wolvie! Damn, but it’s good to be free! And nice to get out to mother nature every now and again too. Not that I ever thought much of mothers. Mine was nothing but deadweight! Hee-Hee!”

Logan shot him a glare, but as he glanced around the darkness at the towering trees, breathed the cold air full of earthy smells and felt wet wind on his face, he couldn’t help but feel more at home, especially after the dull, ugly walls and cement floors of Arkham.

“We put everything in the main building, Mr. J.” Harley said, “And if you’re hungry, Lars got Chinese earlier.”

“Sweaty, I’m starved!” Joker said, shoving his gun into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and walking with Harley toward the main building. Logan followed warily behind them.

‘The kitchen’s in there, upstairs was empty, so we put the packages up there and our room is down that hall.” Harley said, as she led the Joker about. A large dining hall, with old wooden tables, was lit up by portable construction lights and seemed to be the main living center. Cartons of Chinese were left out, along with random tools and articles of clothing. Logan’s attention was drawn to the bizarre sight of two hyenas tied in the corner then to two big men sitting at a table closer at hand, watching a battered television. 

“Wolvie, meet the rest of the gang!” Joker said, grabbing Logan’s sweater and pulling him into the light, “Lars and Mo. Gang, meet Wolverine!”

“Uh, Boss. I’m Flynn. Mo’s still in Blackgate and I…”

“Whatever. You’ll do!” Joker said waving the man off.

“Harley, show Wolves where the boys are bunking and find him some new clothes. Then meet back here and I’ll go over the plan.” Joker chuckled, rubbing his hands together.

“Yes, Mista J,” Harley said and led Logan towards a dim hall.

“Oh, this is going to be good!” Joker laughed behind then.

“No kidding, Boss. Where’da get all them new bombs? I never seen bombs like that…”

Logan glanced over his shoulder and then caught up with Harley.

“Did he just say bombs?”

“Yep! Lars and I picked them up a few days ago. Real fancy modern type too! Nothing like the old dynamite stuff. They‘re top class! Course we still have…”

“How many does Joker got?”

“I du’know. A couple dozen at least. Here we are. You and the other boys will be sleeping here. I think Flynn’s got some clothes you can borrow in the box there.”

Logan glanced in at a large room with several flimsy bunk beds along the walls. A couple had been recently slept in and Flynn’s box was jumbled on the floor beside a couple suitcases and several crumpled sheets. 

Turning his eyes back to Harley, Logan frowned. “He’s got two dozen bombs? And you just go along with him?”

“Hey, My Puddin’s just trying to make a difference in the world” She crossed her arms, “He just wants to be himself and make others laugh. It’s not his fault if the rest of the city don’t get the jokes!”

Logan looked at her dubiously then gave an apathetic grunt and walked into the room, already pulling his tattered sweater off. “If you say so. Now excuse me,” And he shut the door in Harley’s face.

***

“Wolvie, you’re just in time!” Joker greeted, when Logan came back out to the dinning hall, dressed in some jeans and a fresh flannel shirt. “We were just about to unwrap the goodies. Look what Daddy’s got!”

Unpacking a box on the table, Joker lifted out a sleek, silver cylinder about the size of a typical fire extinguisher. “Heehee! Chemical Reaction Atmospheric Catalyst Bomb, or as I like to call it CRAC Bomb! Haahhaahaa!” He pressed some buttons at the top opened it to show a time devise, a few wires, a small carefully protected cylinder and a tank.

“Amazingly simple isn’t it! But this baby has the power to set the world on fire and turn her inside out! Hrmheeha...” Joker rubbed his hands together. 

“You said it was a catalyst bomb?” Logan asked, “It triggers a chemical reaction in…”

“The very air we breathe, Wolves! You see I have my famous laughing toxin, but its been improved and with this I don’t even have to bother making any. This baby will trigger a molecular reaction, which transforms ordinary air into my toxin. As long as the catalyst runs, the reaction will spread through the air, like fire through a summer hay field! Hee-hee! And the catalyst will last for three days at least, thanks to this!” he tapped the smaller cylinder. 

“The fuel?” Logan asked.

“Its Xonium! Enough energy to blow an elephant and all his pals to the moon! Purified and condensed for traveling convenience!”

“And you got over a dozen of these?” asked Logan, “That stuff must have cost a fortune. How did you…?”

Joker just smirked at him, “Like I said Wolves. It’s all about having the right friends! Heehee.”

“Hold on,” said Flynn, “What does this do again?”

“Glad you asked, Mo! How about we see a little demonstration!” He snatched up a remote control devise, a manic grin on his face.

“No wait!” Shouted Lars, falling back in his chair as he tried to find cover. Flynn ducked under the table and even Harley jumped back in alarm. The Joker, however, just laughed and pointed the devise at the TV, turning on the Gotham News. “Relax boys! The bomb’s already gone off! Enjoy the show!”

“According to the latest reports,” said a studio reporter, “Not only has the Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum, but he planted a chemical bomb, which detonated less than an hour after the breakout. We have no confirmation of casualties yet, but at least 36 people, including both inmates and staff have been taken to Gotham General hospital and are in critical condition. Currently the Gotham police and the reserve forces are attempting to evacuate the island. We now go to Summer Gleason, live on the scene at Arkham.”

The scene changed to the Arkham Island right by the main bridge. There was the flash of several emergency vehicles and people were moving busily about, mostly loading stretchers into ambulances. In the background the sky had a green glow to it and helicopters were circling. Summer was standing on the roadside, holding a microphone. 

“Thank you Greg. As you can see, we have a major disaster happening at Arkham tonight. Not only has Gotham’s most dangerous criminal escaped, but the bomb he left, has poisoned the air and seems to be expanding. What started out just infecting the asylum has now left half the island a danger zone.”

“And what is the nature of this poison, Summer?” asked Greg.

“From what we have gathered, it’s a toxin similar to The Joker’s laughing toxin, but not only does it cause victims laughing seizers, but police report that those poisoned are uncontrollably violent and lashing blindly out at the very workers trying to save them and there has been reports of minor burns and blindness caused by contact with the gas. Additionally it seems that at the center of the crisis the toxin is so thick it has displaced all oxygen, making it impossible for emergency services to enter the asylum without masks and oxygen tanks.” 

Logan looked from the TV to the Joker, “You did this?”

“Yep! HeeHAhaahaa! Hid the bomb right before I came and found you! Hid it good too. I do hope it took down Cash and some of those other Arkham nincompoops. Like Helga the night nurse. Ooh I hated her!”

“She hardly spoke any English.”

“I know I can’t stand foreigners!”

On the television, Summer was interviewing Commissioner Gordon.

“Like we said, we’ve finally managed to evacuate everyone from the asylum.” Gordon wiped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief. “Now we’re focusing on finding the source of this poison and hopefully stopping it from spreading any further.” 

“And the green glow we can see right now. That’s the toxin?”

“From what we can tell, the green glow isn’t the toxin, but is actually being caused by a chemical reaction the poison is having with the air.”

“So your saying this poison is burning up the air?”

“Best we can tell, yes.” Gordon adjusted his glasses.

“Have you found a way to stop it?”

“We believe that if we can find the bomb, the, uh, source that is, then the poison should stop spreading.”

“You mean the bomb is still going off? Even as we speak its still emitting poison and burning up the air?”

Gordon nodded. “We need to find the source to know for sure, but trust me. Gotham’s best are doing everything they can.”

“By Gotham’s best do you mean…?”

“Uh, The Batman is on the scene, but we also have trained bomb squads and SWAT.”

“HA!” scoffed the Joker, “SWAT-smot! We all know that it’s Batman, who’ll find it. Gordon’s boys couldn’t find a rotten tomato, if it hit them in the eye! Course they don’t know about the little surprise… Heehee!”

“Surprise?” Lars asked.

“Hahaha! If the Batman ever does find the CRAC bomb and disengage it, then the fun will really begin! Course it may be a while before the Flying-Rat finds…” 

Gleason started, as there was a sudden whirl and thud and a cable shot down into a nearby tree. The camera turned and a dark shape swept down, an unconscious SWAT man under one arm.”

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Summer, “It’s the Batman!”

Before the camera could get a clear shot of the dark figure, something flew at the lenses and there was a crash as the visual was lost. “Hey!” shouted the cameraman.

“Commisioner!” came a deep voice. “You need to get these people out of here right now!”

“What’s going on! Why?” 

“Another bomb’s about to go off.”

“Where you going!?”

“Some of you men are still back there.”

“Summer?” came Greg’s voice.

“Yes, I’m still here. We’re having technical difficulties.”

“Ma’am, you and your crew got to evacuate right now.” Came Gordon’s voice, “Everyone get to the far side of the bridge.”

“Lets go to the live aerial view,” said Greg and the scene changed to a bird’s-eye view of Arkham Island. The green glow could be seen like a shroud covering the majority of the Island and the lights and vehicles were streaming quickly over the bridge, as the island was evacuated.

The Joker leaned forward in his seat and then there was a sudden blast, which blew out the southern walls of the asylum in a terrific fireball, throwing cement like confetti. The Helicopter swerved and the Joker laughed manically as two more explosions went off, wrecking more of the building and sending up flames and smoke.

“HA-HAhaahaHAha!” Joker jumped to his feet, “Beautiful aint it! HAha!”

“That’s sure showed them!” Celebrated Harley. 

“You think it killed the Batman?” asked Lars.

“Oh Hoho-HA!” Joker wiped tears from his eyes, then suddenly slammed a fist, “Knowing him, he made a clean get away!” He flopped back into his chair, “But it doesn’t matter, cuz I got 31 more where that came from!” he chuckled and patted the bomb on the table. “You lot will hide them about the city, first thing tomorrow.” He pointed at Lars, Flynn and Logan. “I’ll give you a map and instructions. I want them all in place before noon and make sure you don’t get seen, especially you Wolvie. Despite all the excitement, someone may still have notice you weren’t in your cell and have the boys in blue out looking for you.” 

Logan frowned, “What you going to do once they’re in place? You don’t really plan on…”

“Blowing up Gothum?! Haha! Maybe! Depends on if the Batman can stop me.”

“I don’t get it. You want him to find us, or…”

“Oh Wolvie, stop asking questions! I don’t need you to think. Heehee! It might put too much pressure on your pour amnesic mind! Just do what I say and when the Batman comes, rip him apart and put his head on a platter!”

Logan crossed his arm and opened his mouth to say something nasty, but Lars’ laugh cut him off.

“Ha, your joking aren’t yeh, Boss? You really think this runt can take the Batman?”

Snarling Logan extended his claws and leaned toward Lars, “Listen Bub, I can take just ‘bout anything that crawls this fucking earth and that includes you and the damn Bat.”

“Whoa!” Lars leaned back, looking at the claws like they were toxic. “What are you?”

“A guy you don’t want to cross.”

“Heeheeha!” Joker laughed rocking back in his chair, “Larsy I think you better back down, before Wolverine gets in a bad mood. His file says he’s prone to violent outbursts and, hehe, deadly tantrums! You should have seen what he did to poor Crocs back in Arkham!”

“Uh yeah,” Lars said, lifting his hands placidly, “No offence man. It’s just, well the Batman is Batman.”

“That’s right, he is…” growled Joker, dropping all four legs of his chair back to the ground and taking out his gun, “Which is why I plan on having some insurance on hand.” He checked his ammunition, “Just in case Old Batzy gets past the Wolverine.”

“You going to tell him where we are?” Logan asked.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. He always finds me, the clever rodent! I’ll set my bombs, warn the police to stay back, give him a time limit and he’ll show up right on cue at usual.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Joker laughed. “If he doesn’t then it’s _his_ fault when the bombs go off and the whole city will go up with a laugh and a bang! HAHAHahahaha!”


	9. “Story Time”

The next afternoon Logan pulled up to the hideout on a Harley Davison, as Lars and Flynn parked a van crookedly beside Joker’s convertible. Logan’s clothes had some blood on them and both the others were bruised and drunk, yet they all seemed to be in a good mood.

“God! That redneck’s face when you…” laughed Flynn, stumbling out of the truck, “And then we… HA!” Flynn made a punching motion and Lars caught his arm so he wouldn’t fall over. “Here takes these,” Lars said, handing Flynn some six-packs of beers, as Logan got a bag from the back of the truck. 

“Gah, You sure know how to start a fight Logan,” Flynn said, “I haven’t had so much fun since that riot in Blackgate a few years back!”

“Nothing like a good bar fight to get your mind off work,” Logan said, “Sides what can I say, I liked the bike.” Pushing the door open, Logan was a startled to find Joker standing on the other side.

“Where the hell have you morons been!” the Joker demanded, grabbing Logan’s shirt and pulling him into the dining hall, before glaring at all three of them. “I told you to get the job done by noon!”

“Uh,” Logan said.

“We did, Boss,” whined Lars, “We got done early and then stopped for drinks and….”

“There was a fight!” said Flynn, who was probably too drunk to properly interrupt the look on Joker’s face, “Best bar fight ever, but then the police showed up and we had to go downtown and pay some fucking fines and…”

“Hahhaahaaha! That’s funny Mo!” laughed Joker, before suddenly touching the flower on his coat and squirting acid in Flynn’s face. Then he took out his gun and bashed Flynn over the head with the butt. “Now someone tell me what really happened, before I start pulling the trigger and shoot you all in the head, because surely you bozos weren’t that stupid!”

Lars and Logan exchanged nervous looks. “Look Boss,” Lars began hesitantly, “Things fell out of hand, but…”

“I gave simple instructions. Plant the bombs. Stay low and come back by noon. And you’re telling me you can’t even do that without the police catching you?”

“They didn’t catch me and they didn’t find out about the bombs,” Logan growled.

“Yeah, Logan wasn’t there when the police came. I.. I’m not sure where he was actually. He disappeared after…”

“Oh shut up!” screamed Joker, “We’re running behind schedule. You’re lucky I don’t feed you both to the hyenas.” With and manic laugh, Joker turned and walked away.

Lars looked at Logan, who shrugged and leaned over to pull Flynn up off the floor. “You alright, Bub?” 

Flynn moaned. One side of his face was burned and bloody and there was a gash above one ear. Grimacing, Logan pulled Flynn’s arm over his shoulder. “Hang in there, I’ll…”

“Get up here!” came the Joker’s voice from the stairs, “Did I not make it clear that we have work to do!”

“Come on, ‘fore he gets any madder,” Lars said and hurried away.

Logan glared, “Any madder and he’d be a fucking fruitcake,” he muttered. With the heavy bag over one shoulder and Flynn over the other; Logan followed them up to the second floor.

“Now put the camera there. No THERE, you moron!” Joker was saying, “Harley and I got it all set up while you bozos were gone, but now the light’s changed!”

Apparently the upper floor had once been a dance hall, complete with a band stage, but Joker had transformed it into a studio. Lights, microphones and a large video camera were set up and some computers and monitors were off to one side, showing what was currently playing on Gotham’s public networks. A large projector screen and what was clearly a complex detonator board were set up on stage.

“What’s going on?” Logan demanded.

“I’m trying to film my message to the world!” exclaimed Joker.

“Right.” Logan glared, “Flynn needs a hospital, or at least some first aid.”

“Oh fine! There’s a kit in the kitchen! Get me some water while you’re at it. I can’t give my address with a dry throat.”

It didn’t take Joker long to finish setting up his studio. Since Flynn was out of commission Logan ended up having to figure out the technicalities of microphones and lighting, while Lars worked the camera. 

“And your saying this will end up on all the channels?” Logan asked, looking at the screens. The news was still discussing the Arkham disaster, while some Spanish soap opera was bemoaning a breakup between Sofia and Carlos and a cartoon Tiger was trying to sell breakfast cereal. 

“Yep! Just be sure you hit the right buttons at the right time. Now Harley, you stand here and don’t forget your lines.”

“I won’t Mr. J.”

“Alight, camera on? and…”

“Action!” said Lars. 

Logan flipped some switches and all the channels buzzed for a moment, before showing the Joker’s smiling face.

“Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Gotham’s favorite show, Story Time with Uncle Joker!”

Logan hit another switch and the sound of applause issued from the speakers. It almost sounded like a real audience. 

“Oh boy!” chirped Harley, clasping her hands charmingly in front of her, “What story are you going to tell us today Mista J?”

“A very special story, My Dear,” Joker folded his hands behind his back and paced the stage, “A wonderful story about Gotham the Clown Prince and the big old evil Bat! So listen up boys and girls.”

The Joker stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the stage, as Lars zoomed in. Logan pushed a couple buttons and some pleasant music started, along with a video, Joker had prepared. It was a simple brightly colored animation of Joker skipping around an animated Gotham, tossing fireworks and grenades like he was throwing candy from a parade float. 

“Once there was a merry Prince of Clowns living free in Gotham and just having a lot of fun. That is, until the Big Bad Bat came and ruined everything!”

Logan cued a dimming of the lights and the music changed from happy to dangerous in a corny kind of way. The animation showed a batman with fangs and claws fly in.

“Oh no!” cried Harley, “Not the mean ol’ Bat!” 

A slapstick chaise began, in the violent style of Tom and Jerry. Joker hit Batman with giant hammers, axes, bombs and other exaggerated weapons, generally making him look foolish. But like Wylye Coyote, the Batman always seemed to recover and keep on trying to catch the clever clown. 

“As you can see children, the nasty Batman couldn’t take a joke and because he himself was always an angry grouchy-grouch, who could never be happy, he was determined to ruin the fun for everyone else, especially the Clown Prince.”

The cartoon Joker squirted the cartoon Batman with acid from the daisy on his lapel, melting the masked face like butter. Then he beat him up with a rubber chicken, before dropping an anvil on Batman’s head, squashing him flat. However, as the cartoon Joker laughed and began to skip away, the cartoon Batman rose up behind him, huge, mincing and foaming at the fanged mouth. He pounced like a cat, grabbing the cartoon Joker in his claws and carrying him off, with a sweep of black wings.

“The nasty Bat carried the Prince away to his dark castle and locked him away in a horrible dungeon, where no one was allowed to have any fun!” bemoaned Joker, with exaggerated hand jesters.

The cartoon Batman flew Joker to an evil looking castle, complete with pits of lava and a black thorny forest. The word Arkham was written on the spiked gate. Lightening flashed and thunder boomed ominously, as the music continued with a dangerous over dramatic orchestra theme. 

“With the Clown Prince gone, the Big Bad Batman took over all of Gotham, making it a drab, dark, nasty place, where it was always night, always raining and nobody ever smiled! It was horrible! The lying rodent, told Gotham he was a hero and even though it was clearly a miserable place, he tricked the city into believing he’d made it better and forced all Gotham to worship him. They even made action figures of him!” Joker took out a Batman action figure and held it up, before tossing it over his shoulder “Disgusting!”

The cartoon showed Batman flying over the city and spreading darkness and shadow all around him. Plants wilted and died, sunlight fled, colors became dull and dirty and a storm rolled over the sky. Finally he swept around Wayne Tower and down toward the camera, red eyes blazing, fangs foaming and claws outstretched. Lighting struck the city behind him and there was a screech, before the screen went suddenly black and the music ending on a terrifying chord.

“Ah!” screamed Harley clasping her hands to her cheeks in alarm, “That’s so horrible! This isn’t a very nice story Uncle Joker!”

“Don’t worry Harley and don’t cry boys and girls,” the Joker said, “The story isn’t over yet.” He smirked, “The Clown Prince wasn’t going to give up that easily. Hrmheehahaha.”

Logan cued the last part of the video. It showed the dark castle Arkham.

“Even while he was locked away, the Clown Prince had a plan and wasn’t about to let the Batman have the city all to himself! The Prince concocted a magical potion and put it in a shiny new bomb and… heehee. He turned the Batman’s evil castle into a brand new place full of laughter, light and explosions!”

The cartoon showed Arkham castle explode into gold and green sparks as the cartoon Joker flew out, laughing merrily. Sunshine and color bloomed all around him.

“Ooh it was a wonderful sight to behold!” Smiled the real Joker, “And the best part it that it was only the beginning!”

The camera zoomed in on the Joker’s smile. “Once he was free and had transformed the evil dungeon, the Prince made a plan to do the same to the whole city and make all of Gotham laugh once more.”

“Oh, Uncle Joker, that sounds so exciting!” exclaimed Harley, “How does it all end?”

Joker sighed, “I’m afraid I can’t tell you yet, Harley. You see this isn’t just a story.”

Logan flipped some more switches, making the lights starker and turning the music off. 

Grabbing a microphone, Joker stepped forward, as Lars zoomed the camera onto his face again. “This is a true story and I have a message for Batman and the people of Gotham. The fun at Arkham last night was only a demonstration. I hope you liked my new CRAC bomb, because there are 30 more just like it hidden all over the city! HAHAHAhhaahaaha!”

Joker walked across the stage to his detonator board, with its red switch and a timer. Lars followed him with the camera. Patting the switch fondly, Joker said, “I can set my bombs off whenever I like, but I’m going to give Gotham a little more time. You see, the Prince doesn’t just want to win back Gotham, he also wants to settle his score with the _Big Bad_ Batman, heehee!”

Joker typed some keys and the timer on the detonator came on, showing the numbers 4:14.29 and counting down from there. “That’s why he’s giving Batman a chance to come and stop the bombs. If he doesn’t come and turn off this detonator before the timer ends, or if any of the Gotham police or any other busybodies get involved, the whole city will go the way of Arkham! HEEHeeheha! So don’t be late Bats! I’d hate for you to disappoint the fans!”

Lars stopped the camera, “And cut!” he said, as the screens went dark. Logan switched the off the broadcast, allowing the original programs to resume. 

“Heehee! That should get their attention!” laughed Joker, jumping off the stage, “We’ll be sure to broadcast a few reminders later, in the meantime we have to get ready!” 

Lars frowned, “You’re not planning on trying to trap him with toy planes and robot dolls again are you boss, cuz that didn’t…”

“No no! This is the Great Outdoors! It calls for something much more earthy!”

“Mr. J and I finished up the booby trap plans while you all were gone!” said Harley.

“You boys will build the traps and you better not waist any more time.” 

Logan and Lars followed Joker to a table where some hastily sketched plans were laid out. 

“What the hell?” asked Logan, when he finally made out what they were about, “How are we supposed to find venomous snakes and wild bores? Not to mention bamboo spikes and exploding coconuts.”

“Figure it out!” snarled Joker, “I can’t do everything around here!”

“Uh… Well I’m sure we can make do,” said Lars, scratching his head, “If we can’t get it exact, I’m sure we’ll find something that’ll fit.”

“Just have it done by sundown,” said the Joker and also it’s about time you boys suited up.” He opened a drawer and took out some white face-paint and some lipstick.

Logan lifted his eyebrows, but Lars just shrugged and pulled the makeup over without question.

“You’re joking right?” Logan asked, watching Lars apply the paint and glancing back at Joker. “No way am I…”

“Wolvie, Old boy.” Joker drawled, then took out his gun and shouted in Logan’s face, “If I was joking, I’d be laughing! If we’re taking down the Batman, we taking him down in style and by that I mean with a smile!” He smirked and pointed the gun at Logan’s head, cocking it, “Now get with the program Wolves, or we’ll find out if you can recover from having your brains splattered all over the ceiling!”

Logan opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it and glared.

Joker glared back but then laughed and lowered his gun, “Wolves, why so serious? Smiling will do you good. Come on just put it on and you’ll feel so much better. For me. Pleeease.”

Rolling his eyes, Logan pulled over the white cream, as Lars finished with it. “When this is over, I’m so going to kick your ass,” he growled, as he grudgingly smeared it on his face.

Joker chuckled, “Ah, just think of this as a game, Wolvie. Dress up!”

Picking up some black lipstick, Logan snorted, “Sure. I always kicked your ass at the end of our games in Arkham.”


	10. Wolverine vs. Batman

“This is insane,” Logan said, as he looked over their work. “The only way Batman would fall for these was if he were dumb as a doornail and just as blind.”

“Well…” Lars said, “The boss isn’t use to working in a natural setting. I think the traps are pretty good for how quickly we….”

“Bub, these pits couldn’t be more obvious if they were painted red.”

“Well subtlety isn’t Joker’s thing. I’m pretty sure he’s just doing these traps as fun distractions anyway.”

“Yeah? Well I’m done having _fun_.” Throwing down his shovel, Logan climbed out of the pit and picked up a beer, plopping down beside Flynn, who was sharpening pine branches into spikes. The other man’s face was bandaged, but he’d put clown makeup on the side still showing and wasn’t complaining. “The boss won’t be happy if we don’t finish. The sun’s almost set,” he said, pausing in his work, to glare at Logan with his good eye. 

“Screw him. How do you guys ever put up working for that clown?” 

“What choice do we have?” Lars asked, “Anyway its not all bad. Joker’s paying for my sister’s college and he paid my mom’s hospital bills last year. And sometimes the heist payoffs can end up being pretty big.”

Logan snorted dubiously.

“And of course there’s the glamour,” Flynn pointed out, “Joker’s famous. People don’t mess with you, once you’ve run with someone as hardcore as Joker. And you have to admit this is way more interesting than anything other bosses do. Heh, I’m even looking forward to finally seeing the Batman! I mean come on. Batman and Joker are the stuff’a legends.”

Lars glared at Logan from down in the muddy pit. “If you don’t like it Mutty, why you even here?” he demanded suspiciously. 

“Joker broke me out. Guess you could say I owe him.” Logan said, shrugging and chugging down some beer.

“Then stop complaining and follow orders,” Lars snapped.

Finishing off his beer, Logan looked lazily down at Lars. “Make me.”

Growling, Lars raised his shovel, but before he could do anything else there was the slam of a screen door and Harley came out, stepping carefully through the bushes and leaves like they were snakes threatening to strike out and bite her.

“Aren’t yeh boys finished yet?” she asked.

“Logan won’t do anything!” accused Lars, “He’s just sitting around and…”

“Well hurry and get this covered up,” Harley interrupted, clearly not listening, “Sun’s going down and Mr J’s ‘specting the Batman soon.”

“Then tell Wolverine to get his ass mov…” began Lars, but Harley interrupted him again.

“Oh, yeah. The Joker wants you to come inside,” she said, looking at Logan, “He’s got some instructions for you, for when The Batman comes.”

Shrugging, Logan stood up. “Guess you boys will have to finish playing in the mud without me,” he said crushing his empty beer can and tossing it into Lars’ pit. “Don’t forget to install the flaming pinecones. I’m sure they’re _so_ critical to the plan.”

Logan could practically feel the heat of Lars’ glare on the back of his neck, as he walked back to the main hall. He smirked and then gave the other minion a last wave, as he chivalrously opened the screen door for Harley.

***

“Wolvie old boy!” Joker greeted, as Logan and Harley walked up to the second floor. “Everything’s in place. Hahahee!” He took Logan’s arm and showed him about the dance hall.

Using brightly colored spray paint, Joker and Harley had thoroughly decorated the walls. Clown faces and the words “Ha Ha Ha!” dripped down the walls and wooden pillars. Harley had added a few hearts and the Joker some green arrows, which were painted on the floor and seemed to lead in random directions, contradicting each other at every turn. The lights had been replaced with green and purple bulbs, making the place both eerie and colorful. 

“Batman’s primary objective will be to shut down the detonator, which I’ve hidden in the left wing of the stage. Course I have the only control key, but knowing Bats he’ll bring some tool or _“bat-gadget”_ , which will let him bypass security, SOoooo expect him to come directly here.”

Logan looked around the old dance hall. It was a large space, with a high ceiling. Wooden rafters and dark shadows crisscrossed the space over their heads and to the left were some large windows and double doors, leading out to an unlit balcony. 

“Couldn’t you have hid you damn computer in a confined space?” Logan growled, “You know, a little room without hiding places, where I could pin the bastard down.”

Joker put an arm over Logan’s shoulder. “And where would be the fun in that!?” he demanded and laughed, “We got to keep things interesting don’t we?”

“You know Bub,” Logan sighed, “I’m starting to get the feeling that you purposely set your traps in the Batman’s favor.”

“Wolvie, what do you think I am? Crazy?! Hahahahaaa! I just like to watch the little rodent making his moves is all. Now!” he swung Logan around to face another direction, pointing toward the stairs. “Lars and Mo will be guarding the doors, but once Batzy gets past them, he’s sure to come here and this is where you’ll be waiting.”

Logan shook off Joker’s arm and crossed his, “And where will you be?”

“Oh, Harley and I will be someplace safe, watching the whole thing.” He waved a hand at the various security cameras set up in the rafters. “Now listen Wolvie,” Joker lowered his voice and leaned closer, putting his arm around him again in a conspiring manner. “I don’t doubt that you’re just itching to stick your claws through the Batman’s head and murder him dead, but Bats and I go way back.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you need to leave the actual _killing_ …. to me,” Joker said, placing a white hand over his chest, “I’m sure you understand. You are, of course, more than welcome to _mostly_ kill him, that is if you’re able, but if you get carried away and lop Ol’ Bats’ head off, or carve out his stony heart, I’ll be most _disappointed._ ”

Logan looked at the Joker and then scoffed, pushing the lunatic away, like he was an irritating dog, who jumped up too much. “Bub, you’re a scrawny clown in a fucking purple suit. I’m really not…”

“Wolvie,” Joker interrupted, grabbing Logan’s hair and pulling his head over, so he could whisper in his ear. “I bet you’re just dying to know who is _really_ behind your little field trip to Gotham, hrm? Who the lovely Doctor Patel was working for and why they picked you in the first place?”

Logan’s face fell serious and he jerked free, glaring at Joker.

“I read your file in Arkham, Wolverine, but I also read _SOooo_ much more. Not to mention the information my many other sources provided. Heehee… You poor amnesic brute.” Joker patted Logan’s cheek and Logan swatted his hand away. “Personally, Wolvie, I rather enjoy not knowing my past. I mean if you got’a have a past, might as well keep it multiple choice! Hey? Heehee! But I know your sort, Wolvie. You just won’t be satisfied until you know who the bastards are will you?” He clucked his tongue pityingly, “You just don’t…” 

Logan growled and suddenly slammed Joker against a wooden pillar. “Just tell me what you know Joker!”

“Oh, I will, Ol’ Boy,” Joker said, not sounding the least bit perturbed by the violence, “But not until we’ve dealt with Batman. Like I explained in Arkham, you do a little something for me and I’ll…”

Logan shoved his fist under Joker’s chin and extended the two outer claws. They barley brushed the clown’s pale cheeks, as the rose up on either side of his face. “No more games Joker!”

Still looking completely unconcerned Joker smiled. “Killing me won’t give you any answers, Wolverine.” He grabbed Logan’s arm and attempted to push it away, “I mean seriously, there’s….”

A sudden alarm sounded, coming from somewhere behind the stage. 

“Oh, sounds like we got company!” Joker exclaimed, “That, or some damned wild animal has triggered my perimeter again.”

“Mista J, I think Batman’s here! I saw his motorcycle come in…” Harley came running onto the stage, but the stopped with a squeak, when she saw Joker pinned against the pillar. “Puddin! What’s…?”

“Oh, It’s nothing Harle,” Joker called, “Wolvie and I were just talking. Isn’t that right?” he looked at Logan.

With a quick glance at Harley’s worried face, Logan hesitated and then gave a reluctant growl, as he pulled his claws in and stepped away. “We’ll be finishing this conversation later Joker.”

“Yes, I’m sure we will, but now we got work to do. Harle tell the boys to get into place.”

Harley scampered down the stairs and Joker started towards the stage, but suddenly grabbed Logan’s arm and turned around to face him again. “And you… Don’t forget what I said. In the end the Batman is mine.”

Logan glared and shook off the Joker’s arm. “I heard yeh the first time.”

As the clown grinned and hurried off behind the stage, Logan looked at the glass windows overlooking the balcony. Outside, dusk had fallen and only a fait glow of light remained. He could see his own reflection in the glass, the flannel shirt and torn jeans that were too long for him. His scruffy face covered with the stupid white makeup, which had become smeared and dirty after the afternoon of digging pits. His scowl deepened at the sight of it and he raised his sleeve, wiping most of the paint away. 

“I’ve had ‘bout enough of these games,” he growled to himself and then glanced about the room again before extending his claws and jumping up a pillar, climbing his way to the shadowy rafters. 

Time passed and the timer on Joker’s detonator steadily counted its way closer and closer to the deadline. One hour and twenty minutes, an hour, then there was just forty minutes left, then thirty. Outside it grew completely dark, save for the unfading glow of the distant city lights, reflecting off the clouds. Nothing stirred.

Logan began to wonder if Joker had overestimated the Batman. What if the vigilante never found the hideout? 

Then he saw him. 

Even with Logan’s enhanced vision, he had trouble making out the black shape, which seemed to sail silently onto the balcony rail like a giant night owl. It perched there, just outside the window, shrouded in its black cape and remaining completely still. Only the malicious gleam of white eye-slits, seem to betray the creature’s presence and intentions. With a shiver, Logan found himself holding his breath and gripping the beams of the rafters, his heart pounding in fear that the shade would see him. It was a starling realization. That freak was making _him_ feel like pray! 

Giving a slight snort, Logan shook off the feeling and gritted his teeth, extending his claws slightly in anticipation. “Come on Bub,” he whispered, “I’m waiting.”

Almost like a response, the Batman moved from the rail and walked toward the old doors, his cape falling around him. For a few moments, Logan couldn’t see him, as The Batman knelt on the other side of the wooden double doors, but his ears picked up the fait sounds of clicks and scratches. The Batman was picking the lock. There was a creek, as the old doors opened and Batman slipped into the dance hall, like a cloud over the moon. 

He didn’t look up into the shadows of the rafters, where Logan was hiding and Logan held his breath, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. However, just before, he was about to leap, there was a sudden swish of cape and twin batarangs came whizzing toward him. It was completely unexpected and only Logan’s instinctual reflexes saved his from getting hit. Swinging off the rafter, Logan landed on the floor ten feet from the Batman, between him and the stage. The strange lights shone down on both of them, green turning Logan’s ugly flannel shirt uglier and purple lining the Batman’s black cape and cowl.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Batman in a deep even tone. His mask and voice betrayed nothing and he already had two more batarangs in his hand, as he faced the mutant. 

Logan cracked his knuckles and then his neck. “Wait’n for you Bub,” he answered, “You don’t need to worry ‘bout the bombs. I…”

“Get out of my way,” Batman interrupted impatiently, not listening to Logan, “I’ll deal with you after Joker is stopped.” He made to stride right past Logan toward the stage, hardly even glancing at him. 

Logan scowled as Batman passed then struck out, keeping his claws sheathed but planning on putting his whole strength into a gut punch. To his frustration, the Batman dodged, jumping back with almost superhuman reflexes and took a fighting stance just out of reach, a batarang still him his gloved hand.

“I warned you once to get out of my way, Logan,” he said, “I don’t give second chances.” And with that Batman threw the batarang toward Logan’s face with a whirr. It wasn’t hard for Logan to dodge, but it took his attention of Batman and in the half a second, in which he was concerned with the flying shard of steel aimed at his face, Batman stuck, from his flank, with a precisely aimed sidekick under his ribs and a karate chop on neck. At the same time, Batman grabbed Logan’s his right arm in an attempted to twist him down to his knees into a firm hold. 

Growling Logan broke the hold, before it was set and hooked his leg behind the Batman’s ankles, kicking the Dark Knight’s feet out from under him and flipping him off his back. Turning around, Logan got in a blow to his opponent’s back, which should have been enough to floor him, but Batman didn’t even grunt in pain, just rolled nimbly out from under Logan’s reach and back to his feet. Nonetheless, the Knight brought up a guard and seemed to survey Logan a little more seriously, as they both circled each other.

The last time he and Batman had faced each other one on one had been in the parking garage four months ago. Logan had been a raging animal, wild, out of his mind and out of control. Now he was calm, even relaxed, collected and completely alert. He could see that the difference had caught Batman off guard. Even with the mask and the stony exterior, he could see gears turning in the Batman’s head, reassessing Logan, as they quietly circled like a couple of deadly cats. 

Logan smirked and Batman stuck out first. They were quick attacks, practiced and yet basic. The kind men would exchange in a sparing gym. He was testing Logan and Logan easily parried, replying with his own attacked, multiple strikes and a round kick. While they were fast, hard and vicious, they were also traditional combat moves. Batman parried but was forced to give ground, falling back toward the balcony. He frowned the firm line of his lips growing determined and attacked again, faster than before, using perfect timing and precision, with every punch and kick.

Logan was ready for him. He didn’t even think about extending his claws. He recognized professional skill and for once the trill of true steely combat, with millennia of history, rules and honor behind it came upon him. It was samurai vs. samurai. Will against will. Training vs. training and knowledge against knowledge. Logan hadn’t fought like this since he’d left Japan. 

At first the Batman had him on the defensive, getting in almost all the hits and forcing Logan to give ground, but then the sense and rhythm of the art came back to Logan. He cleared his head and allowed his enhanced senses and reflexes to work for him, his will and energy to flow at a steady controlled rate through his body. The fight began to turn. He stopped relying on his healing factor and blindly throwing punches. He took fewer hits and took over control of the fight, dodging, parrying and attacking, with greater speed and confidence. Soon they were both covered in sweat and Logan could hear Batman’s heart pounding faster and faster as he began to tire. 

Growing steadily more desperate, Batman became less conventional, trying to get around Logan, or get the space to pull some trick or another. Several times he reached for his belt, but Logan would strike and force him to abandon the endeavor to either dodge or parry. 

Once Batman managed pulled out his grappling gun, but Logan kicked it from his gasp, then the knight took out some smoke bombs, but Logan knocked these aside as well, sending them flying into a corner of the room, where they were able to do very little good.

Ten full minutes past and Batman was breathing hard, exhaustion was slowing his every move. Logan was just playing with him, forcing him to keep moving and refusing him a moment’s break to catch his breath. Now just about every hit was his and it was lucky for The Batman, that Logan wasn’t using his claws, or even his full strength. 

“You’re good Bats” Logan said, as once again Batman recovered from a sound blow to his ribs and came in with another serious of attacks. Logan parried in an almost casual manner now, finally catching Batman’s fist in an iron hard grip. “But you’re never going to win, if you keep playing nice like this. Anyone can see you purposely avoid doing serious harm.” Logan twisted his arm, knocked aside a left-handed strike and then got in a solid spinning kick to Batman’s solarplexs, sending the knight stumbling back, coughing for air. “Your goodie-good style just aint going to work with me, Bub, or haven’t you heard?”

Batman was leaning on a pillar, shaking some, one hand on his chest, as he fought to get his breath back. He was glaring at Logan though the eye slits, as the mutant came casually closer, ready to finally end the fight. 

“Thanks for the advise,” Batman said and he suddenly didn’t look so completely exhausted and breathless anymore. Logan saw his hand slip under his cape to his belt and realized too late that he’d been duped into a false sense a victory. 

There was a crack, as a sudden flash of light blinded him and then a swish of black cape, which only added to his confusion. He let out a roar ready to slam the rodent down as soon as he tried to hit him, but rather than directly attack, the Batman jumped over him, using Logan’s shoulders to flip over his head and across the room. As he passed, Logan felt something stick to the back of his neck. Turning, he saw the Batman crouched several feet away, a small detonator in his hand. Silently The Batman gave a grim little smile, which very effectively said _“no more Mr. Nice Guy”_ then pushed a button. There were a fast couple of beeps behind Logan’s head. 

“Shit!” 

Logan reached back, but hardly had time rip the little bomb from his collar, before it blew up in his hand. His vision exploded into red pain and the room spun, as he was thrown off his feet. Heat ate his hand and one side of his face and the air was burned and beat out of his lungs. He barely managed to stay conscious. The smell of burned flesh filled his nostrils and Logan could hear his blood and fat sizzling. Struggling up, he could see that most of the flesh on his right hand was blow away and burns extended all the way up his arm. From the feel, he guessed his face probably resembled Two Face’s at the moment. 

Across the room, Batman was lowering his cape and peering at him. His mouth opened in slight surprise, at the sight of Logan sitting up, but then quickly hardened again to a determined line. 

“Okay, Bub,” Logan coughed and got shakily to his knees extending his claws, “Now I’m angry.”

Batman looked at him for haft a moment more, before swiftly turning to run for the stage, his cape swishing behind him. With an infuriated snarl, Logan charged after him, tearing the floor with his claws as he ran.

Batman made it to the stage, but had hardly cleared the steps, when Logan lunged and grabbed his legs, tackling him down. Twisting, Batman tried to bring up his finned gauntlet to parry an attack, only to have Logan’s claws cut through the armor like it was made of tin. Claws cut into flesh and Batman bit back a cry of pain, as he kicked Logan in the throat and slipped away, like water from a sift. Escaping down to the main floor, Batman rolled to get some distance between them and then pulled his cape around himself, trying to hide his wounded arm and not betray the weakness.

“In ten minutes, the Joker’s bombs will obliterate Gotham City.” Batman said in the same stern even tone as before. “Let me pass. I have to…”

“I told you not to worry about the bombs!” Logan growled, and leapt off the steps, claws out in attack.

Batman dodged, but kept his left arm close to his side and attempting a counter attack with his right, stabbing towards Logan with a batarang. 

Logan caught the wrist in his hand, kicked Batman soundly in the stomach and slammed him back against the side of the stage. Thrusting his right claws forward, he stabbed through Batman’s left side, cutting through flesh and striking wood paneling on the other side.

There was a soft moan and The Batman blanched, turning pale as pain and shock took the breath out of him. Logan was mostly healed from the bomb now and their faces were only a few inches away, as Logan kept him pinned. He could see through the slits in the mask to the brown eyes on the other side. There wasn’t any fear there, but there was a lot of pain and a driving desperation, which refused to give in. 

“Please. The Joker has to be stopped.”

“I know, but…”

There was the sound of someone else running into the room and Logan looked up sniffing. A growl rose to his throat, as he recognized Joker’s sent. However, the moment his took his eyes off the Batman, the Dark Knight slipped his right hand out of his hold and down to his belt. 

This time Logan only had time to glance down and recognize another bomb stuck to the front of his shirt, before Batman kicked him viciously back across the floor and hit the detonator. There was a hasty beep-beep-beep and then a boom, as his chest exploded. For a few moments, Logan clung to consciousness. The room swam. The darkness and colors melted into red all around him. 

Blearily, he saw Joker standing over him and knew the clown was laughing, though he couldn’t hear it. Joker took out his gun and aimed it down at his temple. The ringing in his ears subdued just enough, for him to hear the Joker say “….ahHahHAha! Wolvie… I’m going to shoot you now!” before there was another flash and the world went dark.


	11. “Until Next Time”

Bang Bang-bang! Bang-bang Bang!

Batman fumbled slightly, as he took a morphine shot from his belt and glanced over at the Joker. The clown finished empting his gun into Logan's head and loaded a second clip now aiming at the throat. Bang bang bang! As usual, the clown was laughing like a maniac, even as blood splattered up and coated his clothes and white face. Bang-bang! Bang!

"Ever try to kill a roach, Bats?" Joker called, not looking over, as he tossed the empty gun aside and took out a crowbar, beginning to beat the mutant's body with it. With each smack to the skull there was a strange clanging sound, the bone refusing to crack, so Joker switched to the neck, hacking like he was attempting to decapitate Logan, using only the blunt force of his crud tool. "Little freaks always seem to survive no matter how many times you stomp them." Flipping the crowbar in his hands, Joker stabbed the end down into Logan burned and bloodied chest, burring the tool, like spear into the mutant's ribs. "Killing roaches was always so much fun! They do die eventually you know… well most of them anyway. Hahahahee! You just gott'a get creative!" He continued to stab, racking the tool across metal ribs, like he was digging in a garden.

Wordlessly, Batman pulled himself up and tried to slip away. Blood was soaking the left side of his costume, streaming from both his arm and his side and despite the morphine and his best efforts, a cry of pain escaped him as he attempted to climb onto the stage.

"Ah ah ah Bats!" Joker chided, turning and jerking the crowbar from the mess of blood and flesh that'd been The Wolverine. "Wolvie's served his purpose, but the night's only getting started for you and me."

Realizing he didn't have the strength to run, Batman turned, letting his cape fall around him, as he faced his enemy and reached to his belt with his good hand. "Where's the computer, Joker?" He demanded then couldn't help but look over the clown's shoulder at the mutant's body.

"You're just dying to know aren’t you Bats?" Joker teased, "And don't worry about the freak. Just incase he isn't _really_ dead, I'll drop the body in a vat of acid once we're done." Joker laughed and tossed the bloody crowbar from hand to hand.

Batman glared at Joker. "Why? I thought he was…"

"Working for me? He was. But allow me let you in on a little secret Bats. Thirty Chemical Reaction Atmo-whatsit Bombs aren't cheep! Heheh! Luckily for me the seller cut me a _killer_ deal! All the CRAC bombs I need, for the low _low_ price of two heads." He held up two fingers and counted off. "Wolverine's and yours! Course, he never said how to go about getting them. Wolvie proved most useful." Joker poker the crow at Batman's injured side, causing the Knight to flinch away. "Awfully good at what he does, heehee. Though I must say what he does isn't very nice."

Narrowing his eyes, Batman suddenly tossed back his cape and threw down a couple smoke pellets, attempting to dash around Joker and slap cuffs on his wrists. He stumbled and despite the smoke, Joker dodged, swinging the crowbar and hitting Batman across the shoulder with a raucous laugh.

"That the best you can do Bats?" he shouted and brought down another hard blow to the Knight's back, knocking Batman to the floor, before he had the chance to dodge. Giggling through the smoke, Joker kicked Batman in the stomach then the face. "Don't give up now! We got all night! AHAhahHAha!"

Tucking the crowbar into the back of his belt, Joker leaned down and grabbed Batman's blooded arm, mercilessly using it to hoist him up and drag him over the floor and up the stage. It was all Batman could do to not scream in pain, as he fought against unconsciousness.

"The GPD knows you're here, Joker," Batman coughed, "I told them…"

Joker threw him down behind the left stage wing. "Don't make me laugh, Bats. You never let the chumps know where you're going." Pulling Batman up again, he started tying him to a wooden post. "Besides," he laughed, "In a few moments it won't matter. Heehee… The show's about to start."

Pulling the last crazy knot as tight as he could, Joker stepped back and waved toward the computer and several screens, which showed various sections of Gotham. The timer said 35 seconds and was rapidly counting down.

"Hahahaha! Enjoy the show Batsy! …. It's the last you'll ever see."

Desperately, Batman pulled at the restraints, "Joker!" he snarled, "You have to stop this! It isn't what you want. You got me. Disable the bombs!"

"Oh, but this _is_ what I want Bats," Joker said, his voice falling down to a dangerous pitch, as he turned to face his captive and grabbed Batman, by the chin, taking a penknife from his pocket. "You're always such a hero, aren't you? Always coming to the rescue. Bet you can't stand the idea of failing, can you…?"

Joker smiled widely, "We'll find out now! You get to watch the whole city go down in flames and toxins! All Gotham will die laughing because _you_ failed to stop me. AhHAhaha!" He pressed the flat of the knife to Batman's lips. "And once the show's over, we're going to celebrate. We'll have a blast! HAheehee! With as much fun as tonight will be, it's going to be a shame that I'll have to hand your head over in the morning."

Joker glanced over his shoulder at the timer, "Now count down with me Bats! Ten, nine, eight…"

"Joker! Please!" Ignoring the knife and the pain, Batman twisted, fighting to loosen Joker's knots.

Joker gripped Batman's mouth in a tighter hold and turned the knife, allowing the blade to cut the soft flesh of his captive's lips. "Seven, six, five!"

Batman was growling now, struggling like a bound tiger, furry and frustration making him oblivious to everything, but the ropes and the timer.

"Four, three… Get ready… Kaboom!" Joker smiled triumphantly, but then hesitated. Batman was staring at the screen, but showed no sign of anguish or devastation. Instead, there was a flash of relief and then he grew still, before glaring at Joker. "That wasn't funny," he stated bitterly.

Joker turned to see the city, looking just the same as it had a few moments ago. No explosions of toxic gas, no fires, no civilians running crazily around, in fits of laughter or screams of panic. Nothing. It was the same old Gotham nightlife, neon signs, taxis and shady pedestrians.

"Hey what the… No fair!" Dropping the knife Joker turned to the computer and angrily punched at the keys. "What did you do Bats? No way you could have found them all! I would have seen you!"

Batman was breathing hard and frowning. "If this is a trick, Joker…"

"You want to see a trick _Batman_?" Joker shouted turning viciously around and grabbing his captive's throat. "I'll show you a trick! What did you do to my bombs!"

"I didn't do anything." Batman replied coldly.

"I * _cough*_ told Bats not to worry about _*Ahk-cough-cough*_ the bombs _._ He should have listened. _"_

Joker spun around to see Logan stepping around the wing curtains. There was absolutely nothing left of his shirt and blood covered him from hair to boots. His hand was holding his neck, but it was difficult to see if any injuries remained unhealed.

"Wolvie!" greeted Joker and fumbled hastily into his jacket.

"Looking for this Joker?" Logan asked, lifting the automatic pistol Joker had emptied into him. Extending his right claws, Logan slashed the gun to pieces, allowing them to clatter to the stage floor. "Oops. I'm guessing our partnership is over."

Throwing the last piece of the gun over his shoulder, Logan let out a snarl and charged, six claws forward. "NAahhhgah!"

Joker jumped aside, circling around the post Batman was tied to. "Now Wolvie… You're not…"

Logan swung around after him, stabbing in a blind rage and barely missing both Joker and the Batman. "Don't call me Wolvie, Bub!"

Joker backed hastily away, bring out his crowbar, but he hardly had time to raise it, before Logan's claws cut it to pieces. A wild look came to the mutant's eyes, as he lifted his claws for a death strike.

BANG! "Pudding!" Squealed Harley. Bang-bang!

At least two of the bullets hit him and Logan staggered, Joker slipping out from under his claws.

"Harle give me that gun!"

Harley was standing in the hallway leading backstage, but before Joker could take two steps in her direction there was a whirl and a clang, as a batarang knocked the gun from her hands and down under one of the curtains. A second whirl and ropes flew forward, wrapping neatly around the sidekick, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Puddin! Ah!" she fell over and Joker halted, as Batman shook off the remains of his bonds and stepped between him and Harley.

"Bats, you got to save me… _hulk_!" Joker choked as Logan grabbed his collar from behind an swung him down to his knees, pressing his claws close to the Clown's blood stained face.

"Tell me everything you know Joker!" he snarled, "Who brought me to Gotham! Who wants Wayne dead and who was Patel working for!"

"I don't know!" whined Joker, "Patel was working with one of the other doctors, Van Dyke! But I'm not sure who their boss was on the outside. He never told me his name! He and Van Dyke had you captured and brought to Gotham."

"Who was it! You told me you had answers!" Logan's claws pressed closer, barely cutting the white skin. Tell me now, or I'll skin you from head to foot!"

"Eek! I don't know. I lied! BATS help me!"

Logan growled, but Batman stepped over and grabbed his arm. "I'll answer some of you questions, Logan," he said darkly, "But I'm not letting you kill Joker."

Snarling, Logan swung his claws at Batman, but the Dark Knight slipped out of reach, moving as smoothly as shadows, despite his injuries.

"I'd like to see you try an stop me, Bub." Logan growled.

Batman stepped to the other side of Joker, facing Logan with the kneeling clown between them. "I _will_ stop you. But if you want to know who was behind all this, you will surrender him to me without a fight."

Logan lifted his claws pointing them at Batman's mask. "You got the answers, I reckon I can make you talk, once I finish Funny Boy off."

Batman glared. "No you can't," he stated.

"Ooh intense! Hehehe." exclaimed Joker. Batman glanced down at him and he shut his mouth.

Logan looked at Batman for a moment. The Dark Knight was nearly a foot taller than him, but it was the stone hard intensity of his glare that was the most imposing. Lowing his claws, Logan sheathed. "Alright Bats. The clown lives for today. Now tell me what you know."

"The man who brought you to Gotham was most likely Dr. Hugo Strange. The collar you had on when you attempted to murder Bruce Wayne was built with his technology and he escaped Arkham only two months before your appearance. He has a grudge against Wayne and was under the care of Dr. Kurt Van Dyke, before his escape. Van Dyke used to work for Wayne Industries, before he was fired for malpractice and may also be carrying a grudge."

"Hugo Strange?" Logan asked, "Where can I find him?"

"I don't know. I've been trying to locate him, but he's been doing a good job at keeping his head down."

Joker shifted, trying to slink away, but Batman took out some custom bat-style handcuffs, locking the clown's hand behind his back.

"Why didn't you tell the police all this? What happened to the collar thing?"

"It was stolen from the GPD evidence room shortly after I submitted it to them, so it was never be brought forward at your trial. I didn't know who stole it, but I now suspect it was Van Dyke." Satisfied that the Joker was secure, Batman looked at Logan. "What happened to the bombs? When did you defuse them?"

"When he had us set them up. Had to shake off the goons, but that wasn't too hard. The fuel he was using is in a black bag downstairs, along with a list of the bombs locations."

"I knew I shouldn't have let you…" exclaimed Joker, but Logan kicked him in the face, before he could finish. "Shut it, Funny Boy, 'fore I change my mind and flay off your green scalp."

"And we use to get along so well," Joker lamented.

"Thanks for the answers," Logan told Batman, "Sorry 'bout the uh… stabbing." He glanced at the blood soaked cape of the vigilante, "You should probably get to a hospital or something." He began to turn away, but in a swift movement, Batman grabbed his wrist and slapped steel around it. "I'll think about a hospital, once you are locked away. _All_ of you."

He tried to twist Logan's arms and get the cuffs on the other wrist, but with a roar Logan broke the hold and swung about, kicking Batman hard in the wounded side. Gasping in pain, Batman staggered and tripped over the Joker, falling down beside him. Nonetheless, he kept a firm hold of the cuffs still attached to Logan's arm. "Surrender Wolverine!" he ordered.

"Watch where you're falling Bats! I already have enough blood on me," laughed Joker.

"You're both crazy!" snarled Logan, extending his claws and leaning down to cut the cuff chain. However, just as the links broke, Batman whipped out a small can and sprayed Logan in the eyes. It was mace and Logan stumbled back with a roar, clutching at his face.

Struggling up, Batman attacked with a punch and two hard kicks in the mutant's gut. Ignoring his own pain, he lunged at Logan and finally managing to force the mutant down into what was usually an inescapable hold, pinned face down and his arm twisted behind his back.

"Stay down Logan."

"You really don't know me, Bub," Logan said and, with a roar of pain and anger, he twisted, throwing Batman off, as his arm popped out of joint. His boot smacked hard into Batman's mask and he grabbed the vigilante's collar, pulling him forward toward his face and lowering his voice. "Also, you smell like Bruce Wayne. You barrow his cologne as well as his mace?"

Batman didn't answer and Logan let go of him, getting up to leave. "See you later Bats."

Carefully, holding his wounded side, the Dark Knight stood and watched the mutant disappear down the stairs. A few minutes later he heard the roar of a Harley Davison zooming away toward Gotham. "Until next time, Wolverine," Batman mutter through gritted teeth and made sure the Joker and the rest of his crew were securely cuffed and tied up.

***

Commissioner Gordon was in his office, pacing, anxiously shifting his eyes back and forth from the television to his phone. He knew the Joker's timer must have run out by now, but so far there'd been no explosions, no word from the units out searching for him… and no word from the Batman either. As so often happened in such matters, Gordon found himself putting his whole trust and hopes in a friend whose name he didn't know and whose face he'd never seen.

He poured himself another drink and the clock on his desk continued to tick away, as it got later and later. He checked on his field units, but there was still no news and it was becoming less and less likely that'd they'd find anything. Now every time he turned his back to the window, Gordon could feel his neck prickle and the slightest sound or imagined sound would cause him to turn, like a skittish cat. Surly he would hear from him soon.

Suddenly the blearing ring of the phone broke the tension and Gordon practically pounced on it, shoving it to his ear, before it could ring a second time. "Gordon," he answered.

"You'll find The Joker, Quinzel and two of his thugs waiting for you at Happy Woods summer camp," came a deep voice, "It's twenty minutes north of Gotham on highway 3109."

Gordon jotted the info down on the pad, but frowned. It wasn't like Batman to use a phone. Usually, the mysterious vigilante delivered criminals himself. Also, while most people wouldn't have notice, Gordon had heard the deep voice of often enough to recognize a tense raggedness in it that wasn't normally there.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

Gordon heard a slight growl as the Batman gritted his teeth. Weather it was in pain or frustration, he couldn't tell.

"The bombs are taken care of. The Xonium was disassembled and it's here at the camp, along with a map of the bombs locations. Mhf." Gordon heard Batman's teeth grit again.

"Do you need me to call you an ambulance?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," growled Batman, "I'm fine. I'll take care of myself. Just get your men out hear quick."

"Right!" Gordon said and pushed a button to call in the secretary. "What about that mutant? Did you…"

"Wolverine got away," Batman said.

"Shall I send men to out to look for him?" Gordon asked, but there was no answer. It was only after a few confused moments that Gordon realized the Batman had hung up. "How does he do that?" he muttered, "Even on the phone."

"Sir?" the secretary asked, sticking his head in the room, "Is everything alright. Did…?"

"Everything's fine, Simon, Tell Bullock to get his team out to Happy Woods Summer Camp asap. Apparently we won't need to worry about Joker anymore tonight." Gordon smiled slightly as he hung up the phone. "On behalf of Gotham, thanks again, My Friend." he muttered.

***

Twenty-five minutes later Batman took a ragged breath of relief, as he saw flashing police lights turn into the camp. Where he was crouching in the darkness of the balcony, he watched the police stream towards the main building, led by detective Bullock. Glancing through the windows, he could still see Joker and his crew tied up and bickering with each other. They weren't going anywhere. Leaving the police to do their job, Batman shot a zipline down into a distant tree trunk and glided off into the night.

 

**The End**


End file.
